An Unusual Attachment
by Raiise
Summary: Harry is starting his 6th Year after a very tough summer due to Uncle Vernon. What mindset has this left him in? Which Potions master is first to find out? A former school enemy begins to act peculiarly, holding his hand out in friendship. Is this really his true intentions? (This is an improved rewrite of a previous version) Warning: Themes of abuse and mentions of self-harm.
1. Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

This is a complete rewrite of this story previously started five years ago. It begins very similar, but really begins to change as the story progresses. Enjoy!

An Unusual Attachment

Chapter One: Hogwarts Express

...

Harry sat at the front of the car, cornered as much as possible to his window, to stay away from his purple faced, heavily obese uncle on his other side. Harry's summer had been the worst yet.

From the moment they entered the house Harry had been forced to change into Muggle Clothes (also known as Dudley's normal cast offs). After this, he was reluctantly compelled into locking his school trunk, in the shed, including his three most precious objects: his wand, invisibility cloak and broomstick. At the time Harry had wondered why had his possessions been transferred into the garden shed, rather than the cupboard under the stairs but he did not question out loud, just in case Uncle Vernon put him under the stairs for the rest of the summer. Unfortunately for Harry, that was exactly what he had planned.

But Harry wasn't a mere boy of eleven anymore. He had grown up, and the small broom cupboard was no way suitable for a boy of fifteen going on sixteen.

"No more flying cars to save you this time boy," Uncle Vernon had said with a satisfied expression, licking his lips, and a slightly crazed gleam in his eyes. "No more Godfather threats, oh yes, I know about his death, no more freaks coming through the fireplace. You're alone this summer, boy, alone." Uncle Vernon had cackled like a maniac before shutting Harry in the cupboard. "You don't even have your bloody bird. Your crackpot old fool of a headmaster has kept it so you can't send out messages!" Harry had thought he would never be allowed out. When he looks back now, Harry wished that would have been the case.

But Harry was allowed out, oh yes, he was allowed out. He was tolerated outside to cook food, clean windows, hoover the carpet floor, set tables after polishing them, scrubbing the bathroom tiles and cleaning up after meals. The only think Harry was not permitted to do was clean out the Dursleys' bedrooms; Aunt Petunia was afraid the freak would attempt to steal something. These were only in the house chores though. Outdoors Harry had had to wash the car constantly, neaten the flowerbeds on regular basis, mow the grass, wipe the windows outside and repaint the fence in the scorching sun blazing down upon his skin. Harry would have taken his overly large t-shirts off, if it weren't for the inflict Uncle Vernon brutally had left upon him every single torturous night when he came home drunk. Even Aunt Petunia had become scared of her husband's new drinking pattern, yet still she had not protected dead sister's son from harm. Harry had at first hoped his Aunt would draw a line to the amount of pain he received. Once Harry caught on that his mother's sister was not going to save him, Harry realised he was truly alone.

So after two months of malnourishment and severe pain, a broken Harry Potter sat in the Dursleys' car, on his way back to Hogwarts via King's Cross Station. So far the journey had been entirely silent until 10 minutes before the end.

"Now listen boy…" Uncle Vernon began threateningly.

"Yes Sir," came Harry's automatic response. Uncle Vernon rolled his eye at the mechanical answer.

"You know the ropes. Not one word about this summer. There is no need to get those freaks involved. Hell, they won't even care. They didn't check on you once, nor did they try to contact you. If this gets out to anyone, anyone I tell you," Uncle Vernon paused; his face barely inches form Harry's, "This summer would have seemed like a holiday."

"Yes Sir." Harry repeated his voice void of any emotion. It was about midway through his holidays Harry begun this. Every question he had been asked throughout the summer had been answered short and briskly. It made things simpler. It made things easier. It made Uncle Vernon completely in full control over Harry.

They arrived at King's Cross Station. Harry weakly, but as fast as he could manage, got out the car. He picked up his possessions and then, finally came the trunk. Harry grabbed the trunk by the handle and with all his might, pulled the burden as hard as he could. The load was overwhelming and despite Harry's age, he fell with a crash on the floor. Uncle Vernon who had been tapping on his window impatiently for Harry to retrieve his trunk, now saw that his nephew had completed his task and was currently lying breathlessly on the floor. Uncle Vernon pressed the automatic button to close and lock the back of the car. Then, paying no attention to Harry, Uncle Vernon drove away without saying goodbye.

The moment Harry saw Uncle Vernon's car disappear he was tempted to shout in relief. A huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders... he was finally free! Harry looked around. He had no idea where he could find Platform 9 and ¾. Harry looked at the time on the big clock outside King's Cross. He had approximately seven minutes to find Platform 9 and ¾. Trying not to panic, Harry lifted himself up.

An old man who had witnessed what had happened came jogging up to Harry. He appeared Muggle. The old man looked at Harry's demeanour. "You alright son?" he asked curiously.

"Yes sir," Harry replied automatically.

"Well, do you need any help?" the old man questioned sympathetically, nodding towards King's Cross. Harry's pale green eyes looked up into the old man's kind ones. Suddenly Harry snapped out of it; _you're free now_ Harry scolded himself gently, _it's okay now._

"Yes please Sir. D-do you think you c-could give me directions to Platform 9 and 3- Sorry, Platform 9?" Harry spoke politely, flushing at his stutter. He realised, with a funny jolt that that was the longest sentence he had probably spoken for two months.

After receiving instructions from the old man, and wishing him a good day, Harry picked up his belongings and placed them on a trolley. He made his way to Platform 9 ¾ hoping he didn't bump into anyone along the way; he had to make sure he had worked his concealment charms right.

Upon reaching Platform 9 3/4, Harry looked for a compartment that was completely empty. It was rather difficult, for Uncle Vernon had dropped him off just in time. Finally, Harry found one at the back of the Hogwarts Express. Hopefully, no one would find him here. Harry had passed Ron and Hermione's compartment; they had seemed fairly content holding each other's hands, Ron's hand on Hermione's thigh. Did this mean Ron and Hermione were now an item? _Finally, _Harry thought to himself, but he still couldn't shake off the feeling that from then on he would potentially become a third-wheel.

Disregarding these thoughts, Harry made himself comfortable with his invisibility cloak next to him. He began his ritual of concealment charms, marvelling in how clear his skin had become. _Shame that it can't remove the pain either_, he thought to himself. Harry had felt, after a whole summer with no contact and being alone unless he was with Uncle Vernon or surrounded by Dudley's gang, he would want company, and friends. But no. Now he's back, it felt all too noisy and impersonal. Harry had grown accustomed to be alone, and knew he was going to struggle with large crowds again. Harry really needed to check he had completed all his homework, but he was just so tired…

Harry opened his eyes to the train slowing down with violent jerks. He hadn't realised he had fallen asleep. Harry looked down at his battered watch. Surely they couldn't be there yet…

The train was getting slower and slower until it came to a sudden stop with a forceful jolt. Harry placed his invisibility cloak over him and curiously looked out the compartment. He could hear a lot of "What's going on?"'s and "Have we broken down?"'s. Abruptly the lights went out. Harry took off his father's cloak and moved towards his compartment window. There was something out there! And it was coming aboard! Harry fleetingly thought of dementors. Maybe they were coming aboard again. But hadn't Voldemort taken over Azkaban, including the dementors?

There was no Professor Lupin to save him this time, nor any Ron and Hermione to support him. No, this time, he was alone, but he also knew how to protect himself. This time, he defends himself on his own. Harry heard screams echo across the train so he fumbled into his cloak to get his wand. Without warning a boy ran into his compartment followed by a large silhouetted creature. Intense coldness indulged Harry. Harry did not even have enough energy to see who the other boy was. He just concentrated all his strength into the spell. Taking his last shuddering breath he shouted "_Expecto Patronem" _before collapsing to the ground. He barely got a glimpse of his patronus leading the dementor out before fainting.

Harry woke with a sudden sting across his face. He had been slapped. Harry's instant thought was that he was with the Dursley's, so he curled up and tensed ready for the next bout of pain. It didn't come. Harry mentally kicked himself. '_Of course it wouldn't. You're on the Hogwarts Express'. _The lights were back on and it was no longer that cold, but there was still an eerie surrounding. "Why this time?" Harry murmured to himself. He sat up slightly and smacked foreheads with a boy, but with no glasses on, he could not tell who it was; presumably the boy that ran into his compartment. The blur moved back clutching onto his head, swearing under his breath.

"Oh… I- I'm sorry… My glasses." Harry stuttered apologetically. Wordlessly, his glasses were passed to him. "Thanks." Harry looked up at the boy and froze.

"The dementors came on board for no apparent reason whatsoever - probably a doing of the Dark Lord, to give everyone a scare. I must say, that is some powerful magic for a dumb-witted loser such as yourself. What are you doing alone here anyway?" Draco Malfoy said calmly, unaffected by Harry's shock.

"…Malfoy?" Harry said slowly, keeping a tight hold on his wand.

"Surely after five years you should know who I am. The Golden boy's memory can't be that bad can it?"

"Back off Malfoy, where are your common goons?" Harry answered smoothly, wondering what Malfoy was still doing here alone.

"We've had a rough few years Potter, but it's come a point where one must decide what path to take," Draco started mysteriously, "I for one, do not wish to associate with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle. Those fools are no longer friends of mine. Well, they weren't really friends in the first place. All they did was take orders, it got a bit wearing. I am currently avoiding them. Be as that may, you haven't answered my question." He finished, cocking his head to the side.

Harry looked oddly at Draco, his dull eyes gawping into Draco Malfoy's blue-grey ones. How he wished he could read minds like Snape. Draco fidgeted slightly but then looked directly back. Why was Malfoy, aside for the odd insult, being almost… civil? After a few moments of silence Harry finally spoke.

"They are in another compartment. Not that it's any of your business Malfoy." Harry said quietly. Draco frowned.

"And why are you not with them?" Harry's face shape altered. Just from these few minutes with Draco Malfoy, Harry had forgotten why he wanted to be away from other people, and what had happened to him in the summer.

"I guess I just wanted to cut myself off from the usual crowd," Harry said simply, sitting back down. This however, confused Draco even more.

"But why?"

"I don't know! Why are you even here questioning me like some Daily Prophet journalist, leave me alone!" Harry glared.

Draco did not pursue. He was clever enough to realise when someone wanted to end a conversation topic. There was something wrong with Harry Potter, something was missing, and something had changed. Harry wasn't his general open, talkative, brave self. He seemed much more reserved, as though he was afraid to say the wrong thing. Draco needed to find out what was going on.

"Merlin's beard Potter, what has happened to you?" Draco also noticed how underweight Harry was, how pained Harry looked, how dead.

Harry tried to pretend that Malfoy's question did not bother him but Harry feared his heart was thumping so loudly against his chest that Draco probably could hear it. Panic threatened to engulf. Did he honestly look so bad that his school arch-enemy would notice something looked wrong? "I don't know what you're talking about but if I were you I'd go back to your Death Eater corner before someone else finds you here. I hate you and you hate me and this conversation is beyond unnecessary."

Draco relented. "I know I had hated you in the past but I have most certainly matured since then. So should have you." The Slytherin gave a non-committal shrug and began to walk out the compartment, leaving Harry Potter incredibly confused.

Just in that moment, Hermione and Ron came barging in through the compartment door, noticing Malfoy halt when they arrived. Hermione began to speak breathlessly. "Found you Harry. Sorry, we didn't know where you were," she paused for a moment and looked at him oddly. "You're looking very peaky. Were you alright after the Dementor attack?" She then continued. "You best get changed, we're almost there."

"Well, well the Weasley and Granger. Interesting combination." Draco said casually.

"What's it to you Malfoy?" Ron growled, "Go back to your Slytherin corner ferret."

"Ron don't worry, just drop it, Malfoy was just leaving." Harry mumbled, rubbing his face, hoping to give it more colour. "Hermione I'm fine, yeah the Dementor attack didn't bother me."

Hermione pulled Ron into the compartment. "What was he doing here anyway Harry?" she asked, checking to make sure he was gone as she closed the door.

"Honestly, I'm not too sure. He didn't make much sense; he was being his insulting pompous self, yet claiming he's broken ties with his former friends? I don't know, but it honestly doesn't matter. Like you said Hermione, I need to get changed, mind if you excuse me for a moment?" Harry replied, relieved to see his two best friends in front of him again.

"That's rather peculiar. I think it's best to stay clear of him, now that his father is officially a death eater to the public. And of course, I'll leave you two alone to get changed. See you at the carriages once we arrived. I've missed you Harry." Hermione smiled, leaving the boys alone.

"We've been worried about you mate, straight after the attack we wanted to find you but as prefects we had to make sure everyone was okay. How was your summer?" Ron asked, calming down once knowing that Harry hadn't been in danger due to Malfoy.

Harry stilled for a moment and then replied shortly, "It was fine, Ron. And yours?"

"Are you sure? Muggles didn't give you a too hard time did they? Yeah it was awesome. I'm guessing you know about…" Ron awkwardly stopped mid-sentence, hoping Harry would catch on.

"It was fine. Of course," Harry smiled, "I knew it was coming, but you two are so stubborn, was just hoping I'd get to see it in my lifetime. And no Ron," when Ron went to open his mouth again, "I haven't got a problem with it at all. Just please keep the snogging at a minimum when I'm about." Ron laughed appreciatively, his ears going red as he thanked Harry for his support and began to get changed.

After the train came to a halt, the pair picked up their belongings and began to leave their compartment. As where they were sitting was right at the back of the Hogwarts Express, many of the students had already left the train. Ron and Harry began to walk down the isle of the Hogwarts express together to get off the train when they watched from a distance Draco suddenly be bombarded by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. They both looked mutinous, looming over Malfoy ready to fight. "Put them in a compartment." A recognised voice called. Crabbe and Goyle pushed them through the nearest empty compartment door. Ron and Harry shared a look, before mutually deciding to follow the Slytherins.

The two cronies took a step forward towards Draco so they were barely touching. Draco did his best not to flinch at the closeness. From behind the two goons, Blaise Zabini stood, smirking, followed by Pansy Parkinson. "Well, well, well. Draco _Malfoy_," he drawled, "Mixing with the famous, half-blood, muggle loving, _chosen one, _boy-who-lived." Zabini looked at Draco with extreme disgust. "The Malfoy name seems to be degrading more and more by the second. Even your idiot of a father will not be impressed. Day by day he works to get back on terms with the Dark Lord, my father tells me. And you? Well… let's just say good luck to the Malfoy family." He saluted at Draco sarcastically and before either of them could speak, Zabini and his crew left the compartment. Draco had stayed tense the whole time. He was now shaking slightly.

Out of fear or of anger, Harry couldn't tell. But what he could tell, was that Malfoy most certainly didn't have the reputation he had had the previous years. Harry paused before following the Slytherins and the left over few students. "Should we…" Harry asked Ron, looking back towards the compartment in which Draco was standing in.

"No!" Ron said immediately, "Serves him right his mates have abandoned him." But Harry shook his head, and felt a strange sense of compassion as he turned back towards where Malfoy was. "What are you doing Harry? Oh for Merlins sake," Ron followed after Harry rolling his eyes.

"Are you ok?" Harry asked carefully when he saw Draco coming out with his luggage. Draco abruptly looked at Harry. Without answering Draco asked a question of his own. "Are you the Chosen One?" he said speaking rather fast. Harry was taken aback by the enquiry.

Harry stuttered uncertainly. "Uh, well, uh…Why?" He finally said. Draco though seemed to have snapped out of his trance.

"It doesn't matter. We are going to miss a carriage so we better get moving; can't have that happening to Saint Potter" Draco said somewhat civilly. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Come on Harry, can't believe you actually came back to ask if this troll was alright." Harry left with Ron, leaving Draco rather stunned. Harry hadn't caught on to the reason why Draco had acted so peculiarly and asked such a question out of the blue, but to Draco it was blatantly obvious.

But how on earth was he to get closer to the Golden Boy for his father with a mutual hatred so mighty and his sidekicks so close to him?

...

Chapter end

So that's the first chapter of the re-written 'An Unusual Attachment.' Please review – compliments and critique equally welcomed. Also, if there is anything that wasn't apparent in the story previously that you would like now, let me know.

By the way; this may make me sound old but how awesome is it that you can now add more than one character in a story now?! Last time I posted a story you could only have a maximum of two! Oh it's so good to be back!

Review, review, review!

Best wishes

Raiise


	2. Start-of-Term Feast

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Thank you to the people that reviewed and for the PM's I received on the first chapter. It's filled me with hope for the story!

Now, onto the second chapter of the rewritten 'An Unusual Attachment' – A lot more changes now…

Chapter Two: Start-of-Term Feast

...

Harry and Ron walked at a fast pace in attempt to catch the last carriage just in time. It was already occupied by Hermione and two 5th year Ravenclaws. One of them he recognised only by sight, but the other one Harry knew immediately. "Luna!" the exclaimed, sitting down in front of her.

"Hello Harry, Ron. It is a pleasure to see you both once again." Luna said happily.

Hermione frowned at the two boys. "You took ever so long, you're lucky this carriage was waiting for the final few students."

"Sorry 'Mione," Ron said, "I think we're the last two anyway."

Just as Harry was about to close the carriage door a pale hand stopped him and clambered onto the carriage silently.

"Malfoy! Go find somewhere else to seat your ferret arse!" Ron growled but the carriage had already begun to move as the door shut.

"I assure you, I would like nothing better than to be as far as way as possible from the mudlblood, blood traitor and loony girl however, obvious circumstances leave me no choice. You can clearly see this was the last carriage." And with that, Draco turned his body as far away as possible from the other students, a sneer on his angular face. It did not go unnoticed by Harry that Malfoy hadn't added his name within the insults.

"Malfoy! Just because your Slytherin friends have abandoned you, does not mean you can come join us-" Ron began, but Hermione shook her head and signalled at Ron to leave it.

Luna, oblivious to the situation unfolding in front of them, turned away from her Quibbler and stared at Harry airily and asked, "Harry how was your summer?"

"It was fine thank you, yours?" was Harry's immediate toneless response. Her eyes uncharacteristically narrowed.

"It was wonderful. But what happened to your-"

"I got into a fight with a few muggle boys. They had knives." Harry recited automatically, mentally kicking himself. There were two rather deep long cuts along his neck, however under his chin, so Harry thought no one would particularly notice them. He had used concealment charms across his shoulders and realised he must have forgotten about the neck. This meant he couldn't apply them anymore, now that Hermione and Ron had also seen.

In truth it was not a random group of boys, but Uncle Vernon. Well, one of them was. Uncle Vernon had fallen into one of his reckless rages and had grabbed the first object he could see. Harry couldn't even remember the reason why his Uncle had done it. Harry couldn't remember anything in those few moments of pain. The second one was done by himself. Harry still does not understand why he did it. It was in a daze of pure desperation to take away all other pain and hurt. Those few moments of assured blissfulness was worth a scar for life. It made Harry forget. Forget that he had the weight of a prophecy on his shoulders. Forget that he had to be a killer. Forget he _was _a killer. Forget that hardly anyone gave a damn about him. Forget he was the boy-who-lived. Forget the way Aunt Petunia would look straight into his eyes and say, "I hate you." Forget the abuse words and pain Uncle Vernon inflicted upon him. Forget that his family had spent so much time hiding his secret whilst he was at Hogwarts and then he would throw it all back in their faces by acting all abnormal. Forget that he was ungrateful. Forget he was a freak. And finally, forget Sirius was dead. In those few moments he was only Harry. Only Harry. A boy lost in all the horrors of the world.

Harry wouldn't honestly say he was self-harming: he had only done it six times; once on his neck, twice on his left arm, once on his waist and twice on his right thigh. It wasn't as though he was addicted to self-harm; Harry only did it when he felt truly desperate. He was not trying to kill himself for it would be incredibly selfish due to his prophecy. Harry most certainly not defining himself as an emo, nor was it for a release or something he could control. It wasn't to grab attention (as if he didn't have enough already) or as a cry for help. Harry only self-harmed because it made him forget.

Luna believed Harry's story about the muggle boys and fell into a rant about how people who behaved like that, have a condition called, 'Mortangerans'. Harry did not even bother to ask what 'Mortangerans' was so he just kept nodding in agreement to keep Luna content. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, a mutual understanding coming between them – they'd need to talk to Harry to ensure he had been okay over the summer. Malfoy discreetly watched the scene from a distance, rolling his eyes at Saint Potter's seemingly unnecessary attention from his worshippers. He watched slyly with narrowed eyes at the conversation, all circled around the Boy-Who-Lived.

What was it with Potter? Despite being friends in the biggest loser circle possible, he gains the love and attention from literally anyone around him – and it was all due to the Dark Lord! It wasn't as though Potter had any particular talent of his own, except maybe Quidditch (but even that was overrated in Draco's opinion), however, he gets the credit of defeating You Know Who literally every time he encounters him. And all these deluded idiots seemed to believe he truly was capable and powerful enough for it – even most of the Death Eaters Lucius had introduced Draco to.

It made them fear the 'Chosen One' more, readily determined to do anything the Dark Lord possibly wanted them to do, and even beyond. There were occasions when the Dark Lord's inner circle of Death Eaters would attempt to decide the desires of their Lord for themselves, in order to gain more credibility. And that exactly is what Lucius, a Death Eater who had lost his high ranking position due to the mishap at the ministry last year, had in mind.

And that's where Draco came into play.

**_(**A/N at end**)_**

Draco thought back to last time when he failed to complete a task set containing Harry Potter.

_It was first year Christmas Holidays. Draco wasn't riding with the rest of the pupils on the Hogwarts Express to go home. He was having side along apparition with the Malfoy's house elf, Dobby. Though his parents never paid much attention to him, Draco's face was lit with excitement at the prospect of seeing them again. Oh they would be so proud to see how much he had learnt at Hogwarts! Draco pictured his Nanny opening the door with her loving smile and his mother behind her, her two welcoming arms stretched out in hug position. Then his father would walk up to him, smiling proudly as he draped his arm around him, and lead him into the sitting room, where they would talk about his year so far._

_But then reality kicked in. Dobby opened the front door, and a spotless, empty hall came into view. He called out to his mother, but no one answered. Dobby looked up at Draco's confused face and helpfully answered, "Ms Malfoy ist with the other mistress's Mister Draco. Only Master Malfoy ist in the house. He be waiting for you." Draco smiled; oh well his mother was unavailable at the moment, she'd be back later. But his father was waiting for him! But Draco frowned slightly. Where was his Nanny? He voiced his thoughts. Dobby suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Uh that is something I not be talking about Mister Malfoy."_

_Draco's holiday feeling was starting to drain. Draco ran upstairs into his father's room. "Father!" he cried, and made to hug him, but at the harsh look he received, caused him to decide otherwise. He articulated his worry instead. "Where is my Nanny?"_

"_That is none of your concern." The chill in the older man's voice made Draco shudder. "You did not do as I say son. You did not befriend Harry Potter. You are now to face the penalty."_

_That night had been one of his worst. As his father had left the room, he had faced a bloody Draco and said. "Your Nanny is dead."_

Draco closed his eyes at that particular painful memory. It was because of him, his Nanny was dead. She had left a letter underneath his pillow which he had read that very night.

_Dearest Draco,_

_By the time you read this letter I shall probably no longer be around; your father and I did not see eye to eye about your welfare. I know right now I should be here for you, but it is time for you to grow up, my little Dragon, and make your own decisions. You are a big boy now._

_Lucius wants to teach you to become as cold and callous as he is; he wants you to become like him. Draco, I beg you, no matter how much he tortures you into it, please never listen to him. You need to decide for yourself what you become and I know that you are nothing like he is. Yes, you will want to please him and by not listening it will seem like you are disappointing him, but Draco, trust me, he will never be honestly happy for you. Everything is for his name and honour._

_Draco I love you, and no matter what you become I will always love you, I'm sorry for what is to happen. I know you will choose the right path Draco, you are a good boy._

_Yours truly,_

_Margret, your Nanny_

He had not listened; his father turned into a monster and Draco followed hoping that he would be just like him one day. Draco still admired his father and was willing to do anything he can to please him, yet he wasn't so sure he wanted to bow down to the Dark Lord anymore. Draco did not hate his father, but as much as he wouldn't admit it, he truly feared the plan that he had been now involved with. Not because it was Potter he had to try and befriend, but because of the consequence if he failed. Lucius Malfoy would not spare a single part of his body.

It was a confusing affair but Draco we as determined not to let his father down. Not this time.

What seemed like a life time later, the carriage and Thestrals arrived at Hogwarts. They quickly got off and made their way towards the Great Hall. Upon reaching there, the Ravenclaws bid their goodbyes to the Gryffindors and entered through the doors to their table. Malfoy had already left them straight away.

The Gryffindors joined their fellow peers and quickly became immersed in conversations about their summers. Harry ignored the usual stares he received and settled to a seat next to Dean and decided to watch the Sorting, trying not to make any eye contact with anyone. Even though no one was talking to him, or touching him, Harry felt very uncomfortable sitting so close to people. He didn't understand why. Perhaps it was after so many weeks alone, desperately craving contact, the sudden arrival of people was smothering him. Harry dearly hoped it wouldn't last; how would he cope on a day to day basis?

His eyes wondered to Malfoy on the next table. He appeared to be sitting alone, rejected from the usual society he was once welcomed and respected within. Why did Malfoy behave so strangely on the train? And surely one conversation with Harry hadn't caused his former friends to abandon him? He shook his head from these mindless thoughts; there was no need to become so concerned on his first day back into freedom. He continued to watch the Sorting, clapping loudly when a first year entered Gryffindor house. It was good to be home.

Draco sat, his head propped up by one hand, with his elbow on the table. He was so very bored. Some Slytherin's had asked him what was going on and Draco had plainly said, "None of your business." Draco was used to being alone; that wasn't about to change now. Soon after dessert was over and everyone had consumed as many, helpings as would suit them, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. The students immediately silenced and turned towards the Headmaster.

"Evening all my pupils. I trust food was wonderful enough for all of us? Yes? Good good. As you may have noticed, we were once again in need for a new Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor. I hope will all welcome him into our school – Professor Markel!"

The Great Hall came alive with more applause from one particular table compared to the others: the Slytherin house. Harry looked at the table in curiosity. Hermione had also noticed this strange occurrence. "Very odd isn't it," she whispered in his ear, shuffling over to him, "That many of them seem predominantly pleased about this." Harry nodded his head slightly in agreement; it was very odd. Ron eyed the two muttering together silently, as an unexplainable wave of possessiveness arose in him. This went unnoticed by Harry and Hermione. Harry's eyes glanced over to Professor Snape. The man sat with a very large scowl on his pale face, not even clapping for the new professor. Something told Harry that this was more than just wanting the DADA role.

Draco was frozen in shock. William Markel. Not in the highest rank of the Dark Lord, yet, respected enough amongst Death Eaters. Draco had never personally spoken to him, for his father deemed him too low in the positions to acknowledge the man. What was he doing here?

…

After the feast the four Houses began to make their way up to their respectful common rooms. Ron and Hermione had already left to do Prefect duties, so Harry walked with Neville, Dean and Seamus back to their dormitory, discussing the N.E.W.T.S that the boys were going to take.

"I'm going to have to convince Snape to let me into Potions somehow because I've decided I want to be a Healer," Dean announced, "Perhaps I'll speak to McGonagall and get her to convince him!"

"I'm so glad I'll never have to step into the Potions lab again! And I can't believe I even managed to get a pass in my OWLS!" Neville exclaimed happily.

As though summoned, the Potions Master came up from behind. "Potter!" he barked suddenly.

Harry, totally not expecting it, flinched and cowered back slightly. The other boys halted uncertainly at Harry's reaction. Professor Snape gave Harry a look that almost could have been mistaken for concern however; he quickly masked it away to one that appeared very bitter. "Seven thirty tomorrow night Potter. My office. Mr Thomas I want a written explanation on why exactly I should allow you the privilege of joining my Potion class and Longbottom; I daresay the feeling is mutual – how you managed to scrape a pass is beyond me." He then walked away without another word, his robes billowing along with him, leaving Harry to comprehend what had just happened. What could possibly could Snape want from him?

"Can you believe he actually wants me to write an essay on why I deserve to be in that class?" Dean bristled at Snape's proclamation, however, Neville stayed as cheerful as ever.

"It doesn't matter what he thinks anymore!" Neville said gleefully, then his face turned into a frown, "But I wonder what he wants from you Harry." Harry frowned back. He had a feeling it may be a case of 'remedial potions', and if that were to be the case indeed, Harry was not going to continue to attend those without a fight. With that thought in mind, he shrugged his shoulders at Neville and continued up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower.

Once they approached their dormitories, the boys bid each other good night and fell into their respectful beds. Ron still hadn't returned, but Harry was pretty certain it wasn't the Prefect duties that were keeping him away from returning to the dorm. Harry briefly wondered how often Ron would come back, now that he was with Hermione. He smiled nevertheless, glad his best friends had finally decided to drop their tempers and get together.

The moment Harry lay down, he fell asleep almost immediately, warm, giddy and content with food and from reunited friendships. After a testing summer with the Dursley family, he hadn't felt more alive tonight than he had in months.

A few corridors away, a lonely Slytherin was walking towards the Owlery. It was past twelve now, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care. Upon reaching his destination, he took out a small piece of parchment and a quill and thus, began to write a letter, concerning this very Gryffindor.

_Dear Father,_

_Letters are being checked constantly by security at Hogwarts so forgive me for not speaking in very much detail. I have made my differences known to the subject at hand and I have estranged myself from previous acquaintances. I assure you, when the task is achieved, the glory will be solely ours._

_Your Son._

...

Chapter End

**_**A/N**: _**The idea of the Death Eaters participating in activities of their own without direct order from Voldemort in order to gain credibility was not one of my own. I took the theory from Ian Kershaw's concept of Working Towards The Fuhrer, having studied History and being a bit of a history nerd. It's the idea that many of Hitler's party members (but namely his three main henchmen Himmler, Goring and Goebbels) actually created many rules themselves without consulting Hitler until the very end, carrying out acts they felt Hitler would approve of and grant them a higher position or gain more respect etc. It was deemed a duty to work towards the will of the Fuhrer rather than just wait for orders and instructions; therefore so many violent acts they performed were due to assuming 'That's what Hitler wants', rather than a direct command. How terrible. If anyone is interested in finding out more write it in a review or PM me.

Back to the story - we have Severus coming up in the next chapter and a little bit more information on what exactly our favourite Slytherin is up to!

**I posted this chapter today, 29/01/2014 to mark 6 YEARS since first joining! **

It's been amazing meeting like-minded people, reading exceptional stories, and being able to share the love we have for Harry Potter; as well as expand on and discuss areas of interest within the plot. Even though I have spent periods away from it, I've always been able to return to it at any time, feeling just as ecstatic as when I first discovered fanfiction. It's a source of comfort, for when real life gets a little too stressy!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter; look out for the next update!

Please spend a moment to drop me a review – comments, compliments and critique all equally welcome.

Best wishes

Raiise


	3. First Day Back

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Three: First Day Back

...

Harry uncomfortably entered the Great Hall late, staring at remainder chattering students. Despite having been comfortable and incredibly tired, last night had been rough. Throughout the whole night Harry seemed to be constantly be awakened by violent nightmares either of his Uncle or Voldemort. When he realised he had woken Neville and stirred Seamus, Harry had to place a silencing charm around his bed. Unfortunately this voided out his alarm clock, thus causing Harry wake up late after those last few hours of sleep he managed to get in the early hours of the morning.

Harry quietly sat down amongst the fifth years that were still at the table. Colin shuffled up next to Harry holding a sheet of parchment, and greeted him. "Hey Harry, you alright? This is yours."

"Yeah, fine thanks. What is it Colin?"

"It's your time-table. Ron chucked it on the table next to the pumpkin juice so I picked it up; he seemed to be in a rush." Colin handed to him a folded piece of card. Harry opened the hard parchment glanced at his first lesson.

"Thanks. Have a good day Collin." Harry smiled, though inside, his stomach was plummeting; first period with Snape. Harry looked at the rest of the day and saw to his surprise that it was largely free aside from DADA just before dinner.

Harry waited outside the Potions Lab sullenly, fifteen minutes earlier than necessary; Professor Snape was not in the classroom yet and they weren't allowed to enter without him. Harry had given himself more contingency to get to the Dungeons than he had planned. The first term always began with Harry's stomach not being to hold nearly as much as his mind told him to eat. After a summer of near starvation, the sudden intake of delicious food was just too much for his appetite – and this summer had been much worse compared to previous years.

The Gryffindor leaned against the wall, watching the other few students from different houses taking NEWT level Potions arrive at the door as a thought hit him with a funny jolt. It would just be himself and Hermione taking the class now as Ron had decided to drop Potions all together. Harry had always been distinctly aware of Ron's insecurities towards him, and wouldn't want anything to tip him over the edge. Harry hadn't ever felt anything other than sisterly love for Hermione, and the prospect of being with her seemed ludicrous – Harry hoped this feeling will come across to Ron now that the two are together.

Hermione made her a way over breathlessly to Harry, still ten minutes early, and asked him how he was feeling today. What Harry didn't know that Hermione and Ron had awoken early to speak about their best friend before lessons begun and had both resolved to separately make sure Harry had been okay over the summer after the events at the Ministry, the prophecy and Sirius' death; as unfriendly as they knew the Dursleys were, it did not occur to them that they could have possibly treated Harry with anything any further than strong dislike or neglect.

Harry replied shortly and cheerfully, causing Hermione to relax slightly and press forward with her questioning. "I'm not quite sure how to ask this Harry, it's been playing on my mind for a while; I felt ever so terrible that we were not allowed to contact you over the summer due to owl interception, especially what happened, and with Sirius-" Harry raised a hand and cut her off immediately. Sirius was not a topic he wished to talk about; the fact he no longer had an adult figure that he could turn to, write to, or even trust on a father/brother level, broke his heart more than Hermione or any of his peers could ever understand.

"Hermione you don't need to feel bad, I know it's not your fault and would have contacted if possible," Harry let out a dark laugh and thought to himself _I'm not sure if I'd be able to reply though_. Hermione appeared to have caught Harry's gloomy expression.

"I know Harry. I just wanted to make sure the summer hadn't been too testing for you, as I know what your relatives are like." Harry froze and asked immediately what she meant. She went onto say, "I can't imagine them talking to you about it or even you telling them about it! I just want you to know that Ron and I are here for you regardless of anything; that's a problem with you Harry, you're too secretive sometimes. Please, if you ever need to talk to either of us, don't think twice." She finished with a firm smile, glad she was able to say everything she needed to.

Harry internally relaxed once realising she hadn't discovered his secret, and let Hermione finish what she needed to say. It didn't matter what she said, no one could comprehend the pressure that had been bestowed upon him. To kill or be killed, to be the reason for his parents, another student and now his Godfathers death. Rather than a beacon of light, Harry felt like an advocate for bringing about death and pain to anyone who got close to him. If anything, Harry felt as though he was being selfish for not distancing himself from the other two. What was it like, he thought to himself, to not be under constant pressure or rejection? What was it like not to be a burden, or to be relatively unimportant in outcome of how the world was to turn out? The mixture of long and short cuts that were forming scars he created on himself tingled as he forced these thoughts to the back of his mind; how he wished he could forget the weight on his shoulders more often. But Harry knew that his method was not a healthy one, not one to be used frequently, if ever again.

Professor Snape opened the doors to the Potions lab and the inter-house students began filling in. Grimacing slightly, he took his new books out, and laid his head on the table, sitting next to Hermione on and end table in the middle. Dumbledore had taken liberty in purchasing all his books from Harry's account without permission instead of Harry leaving the Dursleys earlier as usual. It really ticked him off when he read the note last night explaining. Sighing Harry adjusted his head on the table.

_Harry started at all of the toys with immense wonder as he walked around the famous toy shop _Hamleys_ for the very first time. Dudley had insisted on Harry joining them on the trip, so Harry, surprised, yet delighted to be included in the family's plans, happily agreed. Uncle Vernon was taking them via the London Underground. Aunt Petunia was round one of Dudley's friend's house. Harry had never been on the tube before. He was going to be, oh, so good! Better than even Dudley, and he wouldn't ask for one single thing. So Harry stood in front of the wooden soldiers with unhidden awe, his eyes shining as he examined them. Harry bit his lip and looked around. Uncle Vernon was very interested by the toy gun Dudley was showing him. How he longed to touch the toy… One touch wouldn't hurt would it?_

_Harry brushed his thin fingers over the carefully sown red suits with marvellous shiny golden buttons. Upon further inspection, Harry saw the word '_Hamleys' _engraved on each button. Harry next reached out to the soft furry big black hats. He had seen a picture of one before when studying Royalty at school and it always made him laugh. Harry looked around nervously again. Dudley and Uncle Vernon had disappeared. He was strangely unaffected by this. Sighing Harry picked up the small wooden structure. It looked very delicate. You could move the arms and legs though they could snap at the slightest jolt – Dudley would never want one of these. Harry sighed once more. He smiled blissfully as he closed his eyes picturing himself in his cupboard playing with it._

_With no warning, Dudley came running into his view screaming loudly so that many could hear. "DAAD! Harry's trying to steal the toy!" He whined in a sing song voice. More strangers turned to him with disgrace. Harry's cousin then knocked the soldier out of his hand. "Dad! Dad! Harry BROKE it!" At this point a whole crowd had gathered. Uncle Vernon looked more murderous than ever, his face red with embarrassment. "BOY! Get over here at once!" He backhanded him harshly. "Just you wait till we get home you-"_

"Potter. POTTER!" Harry jerked up from the memory.

"Sorry Sir." Harry said quietly. What an absurd flashback… But then Harry remembered what had happened afterwards. That was the first time Uncle Vernon had used the belt on Harry. The unjustness of the situation clenched Harry's heart. The Gryffindor looked back up to Snape, who loomed over Harry's face, simply furious.

"Falling asleep at the start of my lesson? School has worn you out already? After all that pampering from your relatives, what Hogwarts provides is not enough for the _Golden Boy_." Said Snape out loud. Harry stiffened uneasily, looking away from Snape's face to disguise the hurt written all over it. What did Snape know; what did anyone know? On countless occasions Harry had attempted to ask Dumbledore to let him stay in the castle, or at the Weasley but it simply wasn't feasible. Dumbledore had reasoned that no student stayed in Hogwarts over the summer, and staying with the Weasleys was a danger to their family. On many occasions Harry suspected Dumbledore knew more than he let on, but Harry wasn't sure he even wanted to know whether the Headmaster knew of the Dursleys treatment towards him.

"Detention at seven-thirty Potter and 20 house points removed from Gryffindor." Harry bowed his head in defeat, avoiding the looks of disappointment from any remaining Gryffindors in the class.

Severus Snape was not an idiot. He could spot through a badly performed glamour charm when he was that close up to one and was determined to find out what exactly his old enemy's son was trying to hide. A detention in the evening was a perfect opportunity to do so.

...

The day passed fairly quickly with no confrontations on the newspaper articles regarding Harry as the 'Chosen One' from anyone. Harry decided to eat lunch in the kitchens rather than in the Great Hall; a small crowd at breakfast had been easy to handle, as well as the small potions class. Harry wasn't sure however he'd be able to handle the huge chatter of students bustling in and out during lunch. Dobby naturally was overly willing to present Harry with any food he could possibly make in that short period of time; except Harry wasn't the only one that had decided to avoid the Great Hall today.

Draco sat idly on a bench in the kitchens, crunching on a ripe green apple. He watched Potter enter the kitchens and inwardly groaned; he did not feel to deal with Potter today for he had no idea how he was going to get through the Gryffindor's barriers. After a moment of hesitation, Draco decided to let his presence be known.

"Potter." Draco said civilly shuffling down the small bench to allow him to sit down. Harry looked at Draco suspiciously but sat down nevertheless.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" he asked warily.

"Thought the secret to the kitchen was a privilege only for the Golden Boy?" Draco quickly snarled before mentally kicking himself and continuing, "I happen to come here when I require some peace and quiet. It seems as though that's not going to happen today." The Slytherin couldn't help himself and added hatefully "Don't you have a fan base waiting for you in the Great Hall?"

"Shut it Malfoy; I wasn't insinuating anything. Why have the other Slytherins abandoned you? It's obvious they have; I saw what happened on the train, and in Potions you were sitting with the Ravenclaws." Harry questioned, ignoring the mutual dislike radiating off Draco and himself. Harry deemed it more significant knowing the answers to these questions.

"Wonderful to know you've been keeping tabs on me Potter," Draco started sarcastically, "If you must know, I have severed certain ties with family members due to circumstance and the news has got out. When I tried to call a truce with you on the train, you didn't seem so willing." Draco said quickly, ad libbing and using this opportunity.

It most certainly took Harry off guard. "Wait what? You never asked to call truce! And I'll have you know, even if you had, I'd never, and I mean never call truce with a death eaters son," said Harry scathingly before adding on, "Even if you had severed ties with your locked up father, I'd never forgive you for how you treated me and my friends these past five years."

Harry got up and walked towards the fruit bowl portrait to leave. Before leaving he turned around and cast one look at Malfoy. "If you really have… changed… Confide in Dumbledore. He'll help you out." And with that, Harry left the kitchens. There was an essence of guilt in his decision, but Harry felt like he had to have evidence before he merely trusted Malfoy's word and what better proof than Malfoy turning to Dumbledore?

...

The double period before dinner was DADA so he met Hermione and Ron in the common room and together they made their way to the Defence classroom. This class was a lot bigger than his Potions class; Harry assumed that it was due to the fact Voldemort had returned – more students would want to be able to defend themselves during these dark times, understandably so.

Professor Markel was already in the classroom when the students began to fill in. He wasn't a tall man, but there was an air of dominance about him. His skin was a few shades short from a tan, hair dirty blonde and his eyes were brown with specs of green. He gave tight smile with his thin lips to the class and gestured them to sit down.

"Afternoon class. Please let me introduce myself again – I am Professor Markel, and as you know this is my first year teaching at Hogwarts." He straightened his robes and gave a deliberate look at the class.

"Firstly I'd like to congratulate you for making NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts. As you all know, these are dark time we live in, truly dark, and I am not one to hide these horrors from you. I know the teaching in this class has been incredibly skewed, but with me, I'm going to show you what Dark Arts is really about. You have to know what coming folks; you need to know what it's really like out there. Unlike that Ministry official last year, we're going to be practising real spells on each other and understand the Dark Arts properly."

The class was completely silent as they watched Professor Markel give his introduction speech. It reminded them a lot of Professor Moody, and whilst it turned out to be a nutter in the end, the fourth years of the time did learn a lot of useful material. It filled the class further with upcoming hope when he asked the students to put their books away, get into pairs and start by showing their level of understanding up to this point. He was willing, receptive and discretionary to questions which appeased the sixth years immediately. Professor Markel was off to a good beginning right from the start.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the classroom two hours later with the same reaction as the rest of the class.

"That's the most decent lesson we've had since Moody!" said Ron excitedly whilst Harry nodded his head fervently in approval.

"That was a really good idea of his to get the class to show each other what level they were already on," said Hermione contemplatively, smiling at Ron and Harry's enthusiasm.

All thoughts on why most of the Slytherin pupils had been so pleased to see Professor Markel had vanished.

...

Chapter End

So this was more of a filler, leading onto Severus Snapes findings on Harry in the next chapter: warning for lots of angst coming up!

If there is something in particular you would like to see, please pop it in a review.

Thank you to JWOHPfan, BassGuru, Murgy31, Tired, Avengers4EVER, robingrayson2014 and Agito Takanoe for your reviews so far!

Please drop me a review for support on what you think so far! On a side note, what does everyone think of JK Rowling's revelation on wish fulfilment for putting Hermione and Ron together? Personally, after reading the interview, I think the media blew what she said totally out of proportion, but I'd love to hear what other Potter fans thought!

Best wishes

Raiise


	4. Detention Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Thanks to Murgy31 and JWOHPfan for your opinions!

This part of my story ended up being a little too long, so I'm splitting it into two chapters. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Detention Part One

...

Dinner had been a noisy affair for Harry but despite only eating a scarce amount of food, he had coped a lot better with the vast number of people than he thought he would. Before he knew it, unfortunately, it was time for Snape's detention. Harry arrived at the office door and knocked loudly, still a few minutes early according to his battered watch.

"Enter." Harry opened the heavy door and closed it softly behind him.

"Evening Sir. I'm here for your detention… and the other reason you asked me to come to your office."

"Yes Potter – there is no need to state the obvious, you're wasting my time as it is. Be as that may, you are not here for a detention… yet," said Snape through gritted teeth. "The Headmaster insists that after the events of last year at the Ministry it is imperative that you make further progression in learning to control your emotions and mind. Therefore, despite me being aware how futile this is, you are here to continue occlumency with me every week until we are miraculously successful."

Harry stood still. Occlumency? Free access to his memories? Harry had somehow managed to obscure any more abusive stories containing Uncle Vernon last year, but taking into account the events having been so recent and having been so much worse than anything he'd ever encountered, Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to supress the memories coming to surface this time.

"I do not wish to continue occlumency with you, Professor Snape. My head is fine at the moment, my emotions are fine too, and I have had no connections with Voldemort. If that is all, I best be leaving," said Harry politely, his body turning back towards the door.

"Do not say his name! Oh yes Potter and I would so dearly beg the headmaster to let me tutor you out of teaching hours. You will do as I say boy."

Harry froze as his face went completely blank. Snape had paralleled Uncle Vernon's tone of voice entirely. This was not good. If Snape found out, he would tell Dumbledore whatever he didn't already know and the Press and use this information at his mercy to terrorize him even more. He could visualise the headlines '_Harry Potter, our so called saviour, unable to protect himself from mere muggles?'_

"Potter?" said Snape, standing up from his seat. He walked towards the thin Gryffindor and stood directly in front of him. He quickly assessed the glamour; it was different to earlier, definitely reapplied, but just as atrociously as earlier. Severus decided to wait until after the Occlumency lesson before letting down the charm to find out what the insolent imp was hiding.

"Yes Sir."

Severus subtly took a step back. "You have no choice in this matter and nor do I. Clear your mind immediately so we can begin."

Unneeded memories abruptly began to flood Harry's mind. Ones he most certainly did not want the snarky Severus Snape seeing.

"Legilimens!"

Harry watched hopelessly as he was pulled into the unwanted memories. Harry tried his best to concentrate on a random memory, such as his first day at school, but it was all in vain. It was no use. He had barely eaten and he was in pain from all his hidden bruises and cuts; there was no energy left in him. Just managing to hold back tears, Harry fell with a collapse onto the ground.

_Uncle Vernon charged through the kitchen door in his now oddly battered work suit like a bull aiming for a red material. Mr Dursley never ruined his suits. Harry, always unfortunately there at the wrong place at the wrong time, was in the kitchen, chopping red peppers._

"_YOU LOST ME MY BONUS BOY." Uncle Vernon screamed angrily, swaying as he spoke._

_Harry figured he was drunk. Since it was only the second week of the holiday, he still had some form of defiance in him._

"_What are you on about? No-"_

_Uncle Vernon with a roaring rage snatched the knife out of his hand and with a wild look in his eye, slit Harry's neck._

It was as if Harry felt all the pain all over again. So _that _was what had happened. Snape immediately backed off at the sound of Harry's moan. He hadn't realised the brat had fallen to the floor.

Snape had ignored Potter's feeble attempt at changing the superfluous memories to his early days at school, but when he was pulled into one of Harry being harmed by this revoltingly large man, he was grudgingly impressed. He didn't know Potter could do that. Such an obscene thought – Potter being attacked whilst working in the kitchen.

"I'm intrigued Potter. I wouldn't expect someone with such a pea-sized brain to show that much intelligence – even more on your first lesson."

"What are you on about?" Harry spat forcing his aching body up from the ground; he was shaking from the amount the spell took out of him.

"The image you conjured you dimwit. That was something far more advanced than I thought possible of you at this present occasion given your skills at defending your mind last year. Perhaps losing the stupid mutt really did change your perception on necessary precautions," said Snape with a frown, watching Harry get up from the floor.

Harry's mind was racing; was Snape purposely being stupid? Or had he really not caught on that the memory was true? Could he just be lucky… this one time?

"Yes sir. I'm sorry, but I'm really tired after this. Please may I leave?"

"I believe that is enough for now. The Headmaster will be overly pleased to hear of your progress I'm sure; another reason for him to shower you praise and enhance his unhidden favouritism. Even though your occlumency lesson is over you horror, we still have your detention for falling asleep," replied Snape, heading back to his desk; now it was time to discover what Potter was really hiding.

Harry groaned putting his hands on his head. Snape could not help but notice two sharp cuts against Harry's throat. They were not there before… Were they?

"Potter come here, over to my desk and take a seat," said Snape in an even tone, conjuring a chair over to in front of his table, scattered with neat piles of homework.

Harry nervously approached Snape and sat down obediently. There was a look about Snape and he could not decipher what exactly it meant.

"Do you take me or any of the other teachers for a fool Mr Potter?"

"Excuse me Sir…?"

"Do I need to spell this out for you Potter? Do you take me for a _fool_?" sneered Snape, but Harry was feeling completely and utterly bewildered.

"Um, no Professor, I do not," Harry decided to reply, looking down at his shoes rocking on his chair slightly, very confused and hoping he didn't sound too insolent.

"I'd like you to look at me Mr Potter." Snape said softly, and before he barely managed to get a glimpse of Potter's inquiring expression, filled with wariness in his eyes, with a strike of his wand, Snape muttered the spell, anticipating the result with an uncontained satisfaction.

And it all happened in a glimpse of a moment, a huge flash and Harry fell to the floor with a crash; the magnitude of Severus' spell had paralleled the number of glamours Harry had placed on his face and body. A few short moments later he began to sit up slightly, realising immediately that the Potions master had just taken down all his defences. Not daring to make contact, Harry made a dash for the office door, but Snape was too fast for him and with a flicker of his wand, magically locked the door. Harry rattled and shoved the door a couple of times before kicking it hard in frustration. He didn't turn around however; half of his emotions had been overwhelmed by an unadulterated anger, the other half engulfed by a vast sense of embarrassment and fear. Harry refrained from wailing out as the anger inside him dissolved and was outweighed by an exceeding feeling of loss on what to do; he let out a small sob before leaning against the door, his back sinking to the floor until he sat down, his head bowed in his legs.

Severus watched Potter's tantrum by the door with mild amusement, but his smirk faded when he heard the spoilt brat sniffle by the door. He got up slowly, and walked towards the boy whose knees were pulled against his chest. But when Potter looked up, it was a sight Snape certainly was not expecting.

Severus Snape was rendered momentarily speechless, caught off guard for the first time in a very long time. Potter's face had a thick purple bruise across his right cheek, and a healing left black eye. But what was worse, there were vague pinking marks coming down Potter's neck and further down, hidden by the collar of his shirt. Snape cleared his throat.

"Care to explain your… situation Mr Potter?"

Harry shook his head softly and said quietly with his voice slightly shaking, "Sir, this is not a matter of which I wish to discuss with you, or anyone. If you would please open this door and allow me to leave, and forget this never happened." Harry then stood up and walked over to a table, and Snape, with a jolt, was able to get a clear view of the marks that were clearly increasing under his shirt.

"Mr Potter I can hardly just forget this condition you're in; wait here whilst I fetch the Headmaster," said Snape rolling his eyes, quickly recovering, deciding this was more a matter for the Headmaster than his Head of House, Professor McGonagall.

"No!" said Harry suddenly, leaning against the table. He blushed slightly, "You can't. Please Sir, not Professor Dumbledore, he of all people can't know about this."

"Why ever not Potter?" said Snape curiously; he would have thought the Headmaster would be one of the only ones Harry wouldn't mind disclosing this information to.

"Because, there's nothing he can do about it." said Harry stubbornly, not budging from his request, nor wanting to reveal any inner insecurities he felt regarding Dumbledore.

"Then you will have to simply put up with me seeking out the origin of these marks. Brawling within the castle even on the first day Potter?" though Snape knew deep down that this couldn't be true.

But Harry wasn't listening, "It's none of your business how this happened! It was wrong and out of order of you to take down my concealment charms without even consulting me first! Just don't – Just promise you won't tell Dumbledore." Harry had recovered from his initial weakness. He was unbelievably pissed off by the situation Snape had put them in. In all honesty, what right did Snape have to do that? Harry went for his wand in the pocket of his cloak, his hands clenching around it in frustration, glaring at Snape.

"Very well, on the condition you show me and explain what you're dealing with here," replied Snape curtly, glaring right back at Harry.

"Fine! I got into a fight with muggles, a bit of violence broke out and I didn't get let off that easily," said Harry lying defiantly, watching Snape's reaction.

"And are these your only marks from the common scuffle you involved yourself in?" said Snape suspiciously; surely this would not be matter to cause Potter's blubbering and such distress over anyone else finding out?

"Y-yes." Harry stuttered, his initial boldness faltering. Snape's eyes narrowed as a possibility swept over his mind in an instant.

"Very well. Finally, can you show me your neck?" said Snape finally, not daring to believe his own thoughts.

"You! No way!" exclaimed Harry, eyes wide.

"Potter…" Snape said warningly taking a step forward.

"N-no." Harry took one automatic step back, a mechanical fear kicking in.

"Potter. Just show me your neck. If there is nothing to hide, then where is the problem?"

"I- I can't." Harry took another shaky step back. He was going to tumble over the spare chair if he took another step backwards.

Snape took another firm step forward. "Mr Potter you're going to-"

Too late. Harry fell over the chair with a staggered cry. In the surprise of falling over Harry had exposed his neck. Much to Snape's morbid disbelief, there it was - two long cuts. One in the same place as the memory held.

Snape's mind was racing. Is it truly possible Potter was attacked in such a vile way?

"Who was that man?" Snape growled to Harry.

"N-No one Sir. I preten- this was from the fight with some muggles." Harry rambled, picking the chair up and slowly getting up from the floor once again.

"Do not lie to me!" Snape shouted, but calmed when Harry flinched.

"Is he one of your relatives that you live with?" Snape tried in his most gentle voice, however it sounded as though he was mocking him. Harry began to tremble. It was only the first day of the year, and already someone was about to find out – and what was worse it was his most hated Potions Professor. Ignoring Snape's question, Harry turned and began to walk towards the door.

Snape grabbed hold of Harry's arm to stop him, but as he clasped around Harry's bruised forearm, the Gryffindor gasped and quickly prised Snapes fingers off the circumference of his arm.

"Mr Potter, I believe you are lying to me. Remove your cloak and shirt immediately, or I will have to fetch the Headmaster."

"IT'S MY BUSINESS; NO ONE ELSES; ESPECIALLY NOT YOURS," shouted Harry suddenly glowering up at Snape as he nevertheless removed his cloak containing his wand.

"Of course if you won't speed up this process of undressing, I can easily disrobe you myself," Snape said easily, revealing his wand.

"Don't you dare. It's my business. It's not up to you! Please!" Harry said, his anger dissolving as quickly as it came, turning into the well-known ingrown fear he had been brought up surrounded by.

"I believe I must then." Snape said simply before producing the spell straight after.

Harry felt naked. There was hardly an inch of flesh that was not covered in bruises, welts, even a burn or two. They were mainly a mixture of blue and purple, but there was clearly an underlying of yellow, representing that they were older from a different occasion. Snape had to bite back a gasp. A _second _time caught off guard due to Harry Potter in one night.

"You need Madame Pomphrey," said Snape immediately, not bothering to hide his shock and disgust. This was not a muggle fight; there were too many aged wounds for this to be the case. Snape knew exactly where Potter had been this summer, and had startlingly come to the absurdly correct conclusion straight away. As hard as it was to believe, Potter had not been pampered and treated royally this past holiday as the Head of Slytherin had thought, and it was obvious Potter was suffering quite substantially as a result of his experiences. It surprised himself how angry he felt by this revelation.

"No! She'll tell Dumbledore, you know she will!" Harry cried, attempting to wrap his arms around his body. Despite it still being early autumn, there was a distinct chill in the dungeons, and Harry being topless was exposed to this.

Snape watched Harry carefully, assessing his situation. He had no clue as to why Potter was so adamant on not telling the Headmaster, but what did Snape care? He could have easily summoned Professor Dumbledore through the fireplace via floo and be done with him and his problem by now.

But he hadn't.

Inside, his heart was sinking. In front of him was the boy that he had made life living hell for the past five years, hating him for reasons that clearly didn't exist, and for a father he never knew. And now there was Lily's sister, _Lily_'s sister, a woman he'd known since he had met his one and only love in his whole life, entrusted with the duty of guarding Lily's son, and this was the consequence of those years of Petunia's resentment. Something clicked in the Professor as he stood back and surveyed at the scrawny teenager he still disliked so very much in front of him. '_A duty, your repentance… for her,'_ a small nagging voice came rambling from within. Snape felt sickened by the volume of conflicting emotions within him. There was a pregnant pause.

"Then you will let me examine you myself," said Snape finally, his voice cold. "Come."

...

Chapter End

So that's all for this week; next time we're going to be looking further into Severus' analysis on Harry's condition and past, as well as Harry's take on the situation. I'm trying my best to keep Harry in character, he's a strong fella really and I don't want to make him too emotional. Dumbledore will also be making an appearance too!

To all the lovely people who are following at the moment - Please let me know in a review what you think so far and if there's anything you'd like to see!

Proudly wore my Ravenclaw scarf out in the winter cold today; felt incredibly happy! By the way – **does anyone know why** they changed Ravenclaw's bronze to silver for the films and merchandise? I really liked the combination of blue and bronze, but I guess silver is pretty good too.

Best wishes

Raiise


	5. Detention Part Two

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

This is the second part to our Detention with Snape.

Chapter Five: Detention Part Two

...

Snape swept to the back of his office and walked out of a door Harry had never noticed beside a cabinet of potions before. Harry warily followed on into the warmer room, feeling more and more wound up as he entered what seemed like Snape's personal quarters. They weren't anything of particular consideration or beauty. There was living room which consisted of a mahogany table with three matching chairs, two black couches with green and sliver draping's and two doors opposite the office door which Harry assumed led to a bedroom and a bathroom. There was a very small kitchen across from the two sofas which also contained a fireplace. Harry turned around to face Snape who was holding a vial containing a deep blue liquid.

"Drink this; it's a calming potion mixed with a soluble numbing solid. It'll cause the stinging to lessen whilst treatment," said Snape steadily handing over the container. Whilst the calming potion would essentially do what it says on the tin, the numbing solid, whilst blurring the pain during treatment, also had the tendency to also numb the mind, and in result loosen one's tongue and not necessarily be wholly consciously aware. Snape decided to withhold this information.

"Why are you helping me?" said Harry eyeing the potion suspiciously.

"Merely my duty. Trust me Potter, I seek no joy in having you in my company, nor do I intend to poison you. Someone would surely notice don't you think?" Snape sneered. This was true; this was not particularly a situation Severus wished to be in on the first day back at school.

"Of course. The Chosen One gone missing I'm sure," he replied, drinking the whole vile. The resentment in the teenager's voice did not go unnoticed by Snape.

"Sit down on the couch Potter," said Snape calmly. It would be much easier to deal with him now. Harry silently obeyed, his head swaying.

"Now; point to me all the areas it hurts the most." Harry hesitantly indicated around his chest and the left side of his hip. Snape cautiously leant forward and examined these areas with his wand, a soft blue glow coming from the tip; when he reached near the bottom of Harry's chest, the blue glow turned to a distinct yellow. Snape looked up at Harry grimly.

"You have a broken bone within your ribcage; easy to heal with a dosage of skel-grow no doubt, but nevertheless a broken bone. The hip seems to be the cause of intense bruising but you can treat this with a mere healing balm which we can use for your eye and cheek." Snape summoned said potion and balm and they came within an instant.

Harry remained silent throughout this whole ordeal, a slightly glazed look upon his eyes; even Snape could not blame him for being in shock. As Severus poured the correct contents of his potion into a vial and set it aside for later, he struck a conversation with Harry. "Is the memory you conjured true?" he asked guardedly.

"Sir I'm pretty sure you've figured out this one for yourself," said Harry tiredly, rubbing his non-bruised eye; there was a dull headache at the back of his head that seemed to be getting closer and closer to the forefront of his mind. Harry was ashamed – no beyond ashamed – he was humiliated by this whole tribulation. What misfortune did he have that on merely the first day back at Hogwarts, someone had already discovered his secret. But Harry was also confused, why was Snape helping him? Surely the Potions Professor could have just gone to Pomphrey and be done with him, but no – there was something holding Snape back. But what?

"I'm going to now apply the healing balm; this will soothe the pain and the bruising should go down in the next three days, providing you reapply this twice a day. Do I have your consent?" said Snape as he opened the container. Harry nodded impassively and indicated Snape to go on.

"So is he one of your relatives you live with then?" asked Snape for the second time that night, as he began to apply the healing balm to Harry's bruised torso and hip. Snape was aware that soon the numbing solid would begin to kick in, and Harry would become less aware on what he was talking about; perhaps it was better this way.

"Yeah, that's my uncle."

"Vincent Dursley if I am correct?" Snape replied, wracking his brains for any memory of Lily's older sister's husband.

"…Vernon, Sir," corrected Harry reluctantly. The less Snape knew the better, surely.

"Has he done this before, or any other form of mistreatment?" questioned Snape further.

"No Sir. He has never slashed me with a knife before or after this incident. But yeah, there's always been beats, not this bad, but I think it is okay. I think it's well deserved Sir," said Harry quietly, in a soft ramble.

Snape narrowed his eyes. What on earth did Potter mean by his blather of 'It's well deserved'? He had been expecting the fact that he had been abused before, but, the slash? Then how did Potter receive the other cut as well as the overall three across his arm and waist? Snape voiced his thoughts, trying to keep worry from his voice. Was there more than one abuser?

"Professor, they have had to deal with me since the age of one. They know how unsafe my being in the house is for them. Surely you can understand the burden I am upon their family; if it wasn't for me, their lives would be so much easier and they wouldn't have to have anything to do with the magical world that they hate so much. To them, I'm a freak, and why wouldn't I be? I have a form of power that they do not have, and that scares them. I mean, it really scares them. And I don't blame them; in their eyes I'm dangerous so it's understandable they hate me. I deserve their rejection and I accept how they feel about me," Harry spoke fast, dejection dripping on every word.

Snape shot Harry a look of pure loathing which was most certainly not directed at him and decided right there he was going to pay a visit to Privet Drive at some point. He simply couldn't fathom the prospect that anyone, even Potter, would place the blame for his trouble on himself, rather than the foul man who caused the red handprint marks around his neck, and the woman who let it all continue. Snape particularly despised this notion as his godson, Draco, was very similar in this aspect; instead of acknowledging Lucius' maliciousness as a trait in his dark disposition, Draco was ridiculously determined to find a fault within himself, in order to justify his father's actions. But there is no rationalisation for this, in any case.

Severus blinked aside the paralleling observation he made and arrived at another puzzle: How had no one recognised this seemingly regular occurrence? Not him, who had spent the past five years guarding Potter quietly, not Minerva, who was his Head of House, and finally not the omnipotent Professor Dumbledore, who appeared omniscient above all? Not even that oaf Hagrid whom which Potter was nonsensically attached to. How had they all equally failed when they were keeping an eye so close?

Surely someone should have noticed the scrawny underfed appearance Potter came back to the Magical World with every year, the exaggerated flinch and ducking reflexes, the lowered self-worth that caused Potter to make all those ridiculous stunts each year?

But Severus had noticed. He just simply hadn't cared.

Severus had seen the memories through Harry's occlumency lessons last year. The cupboard, the neglect, the bullying, but never had it crossed his mind that the cruelty would have gone further than that. In fact, Snape had never even seen abuse like- wait. _How had Potter hidden this?_

"Potter; regarding our occlumency sessions last year – how did you manage to conceal this information?" said Snape, cocking his head to the side.

"Sir… I honestly don't know. I somehow just managed to keep the things I truly didn't want you to see."

"Such as _what_ Potter?" growled Snape, magically cleaning his hands.

"You know… Embarrassing things… like when I was seeing Cho… or the bad features at the Dursley's," said Harry softly, his eyes blurring at the slight pain caused by the now heavily applied healing balm.

"Mr Potter. Had I not taught you anything last year? You do realise, occlumency is exactly what you were doing in order to cover the 'embarrassing things' in your pathetic little life? It is a deep acknowledgement from within, a whole-hearted desire on every layer of your mind to conceal factors and reform them, willingly bringing forward another fabricated diversion. If you had acknowledged this, rather than make the sessions a living hell for the pair of us, perhaps your Godfather would not be dead!" said Snape furiously, eyes flashing maliciously as he got up in search for the burn salve.

Harry looked up miserably, those usually bright eyes, now pale and dull. "You think I don't know that now? But I can't do it, I don't know how, it's pathetic, I'm pathetic and I've had enough of people constantly dying because of me! Can't you see! That's why no one can know about this!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, his back towards the thin Gryffindor on his couch. He took a few steady breaths before saying, "Who actually knows about this? Can you count them on one hand or two?"

Harry looked at Snape's back thoughtfully and began to speak, his voice slurring with the numbing solid being in full action, "Obviously my aunt and uncle, Dudley – that's my cousin, then Piers who is his friend, and probably his gang because they always seemed to-"

"From _Hogwarts_ Potter."

"Oh," said Harry sheepishly, "Well, I'm not sure. But Madame Pomphrey had seen something in the past, she questioned me once, in first year, but it was never brought up again."

"What about your friends?" said Snape incredulously, "Or the Weasley family… Did Black even know?"

"No! No. No one knew… And they can't, otherwise the past five years would have just been a complete waste. No. One. Must. Know," said Harry, his voice on the brink of panic despite his calming potion.

"Why ever not, Mr Potter? These wounds… Are unacceptable. I do not see, why no one can know, in particular the Headmaster. And moreover, why did you not fight back once you had the power to do so? You used your idiotic Gryffindor disposition to greet the Dark Lord on not one, not two, not three, but _four_ occasions, decided to slay a basilisk single-handedly and you participated in the Triwizard Tournament, but you wouldn't defend yourself against your obese excuse of a relative? Why did you not bring up something was wrong?" said Snape, temper rising. Despite having retrieved the salve he was in search for, he did not return to the couch just yet, but watched the forlorn boy from afar. His mind was racing, if Madame Pomphrey had discovered something, as a minor, it was law for her to report this to the Head of House or the Headmaster. Why hadn't she?

Harry lent forward, his fingers caressing over one of the scars on his left arm, "Because nothing is wrong, Professor. This is the way it needs to be, whether I want this or not. Listen, I realised long ago, when I first started Hogwarts that something wasn't right over there, that I was being treated differently. But I asked Dumbledore years ago, damn it, _I pleaded_, and he explained to me the blood wards. You know about them right?"

Snape gave a curt nod in agreement as he finally returned with a sickly looking orange paste before Harry continued, "Okay, so this is how it is. If I get away from the wards, I'm no longer safe. If I go to my friends, like the Weasleys or Hermione, they're no longer safe either. Don't you get it? Wherever I go, I'm no longer protected from blood wards, Death Eaters can get to me, and no one is safe all over again. If Dumbledore knows I know that he knows, he HAS to remove me from there, and then no one is safe again, people _will _die, so that's why I need to pretend everything is okay, and that everything is fine; there is simply no better alternative."

Potter probably was not fully aware he was telling his most hated teacher the depths of his insecurities, but quite frankly Snape decided this was not a burden he should be holding anymore. He'd had enough of this ordeal, it was simply draining and this weight was too much upon his shoulders. How could the Golden Boy truly believe that Dumbledore knew all along? Was the boy insane? Just as Snape was about to open his mouth, Harry spoke up again.

"Sir I need to say something," started Harry anxiously, twisting his hands between each other.

"Continue; I have a paste here I am going to apply to your burns – do I have your consent?" asked Snape, adding the orange sludge onto a small cloth. Harry nodded and with much effort raised his head and looked at his teacher.

"I need to say I'm sorry – about last year with the pensive – I… It was wrong of me and I should have apologised earlier. I g-genuinely thought you were hiding something regarding the corridor I just kept seeing, so I took the opportunity – If I knew, really if I did – I wouldn't have done it- It was horrible and I know I don't have the right, but I want to apologise on my father's behalf too."

Snape subdued, his breath hitched by what he had just heard. Potter was apologising for his father? James Potter would be rolling in his grave if he knew what was happening right this moment. Snape wanted to believe that the apology was fake, false, some bizarre joke of his, but after all Snape had discovered this evening, and the fact the Gryffindor was dosed with a numbing solid, there was no case to justify that possibility; Harry Potter was telling the truth – he was apologising to Snape for his and his father's actions against him. Snape coughed uncomfortably, "Apology accepted Mr Potter, but not for your father, that's not your place."

"Right, yeah," said Harry, reddening slightly. Snape finished the paste application and spelled Harry's clothes back on.

"As for the Headmaster, I assure you he would have not have left his most preferred pupil, that he shows an arrant amount of favouritism too, in an environment like that. He may appear omniscient, but I assure you, he is not. I'm going to fetch him now, Mr Potter, please wait here."

Harry's face lost colour instantly. "What? You said you wouldn't! You promised!"

"Well I revoke my 'promise', Mr Potter; I do not have to 'promise' a pupil anything. What I have discovered here I must report, I can clearly see the potentials that threaten you, and you expect me to turn away?" said Snape getting up. He was not guilty for breaking his word, and he would convince himself he was not feeling guilty! Potter covered his face with two shaking hands.

"Don't pretend you care," said Harry, his voice barely audible, "You never have, so don't start to pretend now, you hate me like you hated my mother and father-"

"I did not hate your mother," Snape blurted out before he could stop himself. He stilled immediately, his composure cold, but Harry hadn't seemed to notice.

"Whatever- Just please don't-"

"ENOUGH!" yelled Snape, ignoring Harry's abrupt flinch, "Enough. I am sending message to the Headmaster, and you will do well to comply with all questions that come your way, and answer honestly. I will not deal with late adolescent whimpering."

And with that, Snape walked to the fireplace in the kitchen, grabbed a handful of floo and called "Headmasters Office," not sparing a second glance at the distraught boy on his couch.

...

Chapter End

So didn't quite get to get Dumbledore making an appearance without it becoming far too long of a chapter. Hope this was satisfactory nonetheless. Please let me know what you think! Harry wasn't too angsty was he?

I've been listening to No.12 Harry and Hermione from the Soundtrack Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. It really is quite beautiful; one of the best songs on that soundtrack in my opinion.

Thank you to Murgy31, Allie Danger, Zireael07, FaeSong and Spellecho for your reviews in the previous chapter.

Please spare me a review if you get the chance, I'd love to know your opinions on the story so far!

Best wishes

Raiise


	6. Dumbledore's Revelation

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

I wrote this chapter whilst listening to "Obliviate" from the Deathly Hallows Part One soundtrack. I strongly recommend if you haven't heard in a while!

Chapter Six: Dumbledore's Revelation

...

Severus entered Dumbledore's office, as soon as Dumbledore allowed his access through.

"Headmaster, forgive me for my late intrusion however, I would not be here unless it was strictly necessary," said the Potions Master, urgency and bitterness apparent in his voice. Dumbledore stood up immediately from his plump comfy armchair, and walked over to him.

"Of course Severus, I understand; is there an issue? An update from Voldemort you wish to inform me about or a new task he has set aside for you?" asked Dumbledore, his face already calculating and scheming, "Please come sit down, I have my box of lemon drops somewhere…"

"No Headmaster there isn't any time to sit down and suck on lemon drops and no, nothing of the sort. I have a semi-distraught Potter in my Dungeons, and I would like him to be dealt with instantly. It appears his muggle relatives were not all we suspected them to be, and he is adamant of you not finding out further. I am simply doing my duty by passing him onto you. Care to join me for this happy greeting, I dare say he will be most welcoming to your presence," finished Snape sarcastically before stepping aside to allow Dumbledore to silently take some of his own floo powder and travel to Snape's dungeons, not a twinkle in his eye to be sighted.

Harry stood up and shook his robes on angrily; whilst he understood Snape's actions for telling Dumbledore, what reasoning did he have for healing him himself then? If his intention was to go to Dumbledore all along, why didn't Madame Pomfrey just heal him in the first place? The Gryffindor straightened his shoulders as he saw the Headmaster and the Potions git enter through the Kitchen fireplace a mere two minutes later. _Well that was fast, _Harry thought to himself, as he watched the two teachers approach him. A frequent familiar questioning fear swept through him that suddenly materialised to become very real: which situation was worse, the Headmaster being aware all this time what was going on behind the doors of Privet Drive and the Dursleys treatment towards him, or a circumstance where Dumbledore truly hadn't known about the abuse and was disappointed and hurt that Harry had not confided in Hogwarts school.

"Harry… my dear boy, what I have been informed on this nightfall… It seems my lack of awareness is larger than I cared to see. I am so sorry Harry; I will do the most I can to ensure by next summer you do not have to go back there," said Dumbledore sadly, his arms raised as he pulled Harry into an embrace. Harry complied uncertainly, anger dissipating, but pulled quickly back.

"It's nothing Professor, I need to go back to protect-" But Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him.

"But we want you happy and healthy as well Harry, and if your blood relatives cannot offer you the shelter you need, then you need not go back there." Harry looked at the Headmaster, shocked, not daring to believe his ears. Had Dumbledore really not known all along what was going on? If Harry had spoken up earlier, surely he would have been able to leave earlier. Could he truly have been so stupid?

"So… You didn't know?" stated Harry numbly then coloured immediately at what he had just indicated out loud. "Sorry Sir, I didn't mean…" Harry stuttered but Dumbledore placed one hand on Harry's shoulder, and sighed sadly.

"Harry, I am an old man, who still makes mistakes, and too many seem to have caused you to suffer. I put too much faith in blood relationships, having not respected my own in the past. Whilst I was aware that you did not see eye to eye with your family, and there was an element of neglect and often cruelty at their hands due to their unyielding fear in magic, never did I suspect anything more than this. Please believe me."

And Harry did. He looked down, nodding gently, ashamed at ever suspecting the forlorn Headmaster, whilst Snape watched this scene with narrowed judgemental eyes.

"Harry, I'd like you to just stay here for tonight, it seems like Professor Snape has applied a lot of medication on you judging by the strong smell of treatments, and I'm not sure of the impact of leaving you to go back to Gryffindor Tower on your own all drugged up," said Dumbledore, smiling warmly. "And perhaps a sleeping potion for our young man here?"

Snape ruffled at his quarters being offered against his consent, but silently retrieved the sleeping potion in a dark flask as well as another vial. Dumbledore switched Harry's school robes to pyjamas with a swish of a wand, causing Harry to yelp at the sudden change of fabrics. Reluctantly, Harry lay down on the couch and Dumbledore conjured a blanket. Harry noticed a dark look Snape flashed at Dumbledore and the acknowledgement they shared. Perplexed on what it meant, he was immediately curious to find out.

"Potter I am going to give you a derivative of Skele-Gro for that rib as it is for mending, not reappearing, followed by a sleeping potion to help efface the pain from it," said Snape brusquely, handing both items over. Harry silently took the two potions, a blank look on his face as he drank down the disgusting Skele-Gro. After a moment of consideration, Harry took the dark flask and pressed it to his lips, pretending to take a huge gulp before laying back and silently turning to face the couch. He was in deep pain with the Skele-Gro immediately taking its effects, but Harry wanted to know what that look was about and was willing to go through the pain to do so. Well, he didn't have much of a choice now anyway. He began to listen to the two teacher's conversation, sweat beads trickling down his forehead and a horrible after-taste in his mouth.

...

"Severus, would you like to accompany me back to my office, I can see you have some questions?" said Dumbledore gently, turning towards to fireplace.

"Really Headmaster, I would much rather just remain in my accommodation now; just linger here for a small chat then you may return to your comfy chairs and sickly sweets," said Snape bluntly, moving to the mahogany table. Dumbledore shuffled over and joined the younger man, looking rather put out.

"Very well Severus, and please, as I have requested many, many times, do call me Albus. What was increasingly bothering you throughout my talk with Harry?"

Snape cleared his throat before speaking. What he was about to say was merely a perception he received of a few moments passed, and it was one he barely dared to believe himself. "_Albus_, whatever I said to you in your office, I merely claimed the muggles had acted out of place, how did you know that Potter was not happy nor healthy nor safe in that place?"

"Are you certain Harry is asleep Severus?" Snape rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"_Albus _we saw him guzzle the Sleeping Potion ourselves, _yes_, he is asleep." Dumbledore nodded.

"Because I was fairly aware that not all was right Severus," said Dumbledore hesitantly, all emotion stripping from his face.

"Potter claimed in one of his self-righteous tantrums that there was a chance you already knew… the extent… of these issues," said Snape carefully.

"I'm afraid Harry was correct, my dear boy, and this is something that can never be disclosed to him. After Sirius Black's death, our relationship is already on the edge, it is important he stays loyal to me and Hogwarts," said Dumbledore simply, a frown appearing on his face, "But I disagree with the safety matter, he is most certainly safer there than he is anywhere else, no matter what goes on within those walls."

"So you're lying to him about your pre-knowledge on this matter?" said Snape bluntly.

"Of course; he will never trust me if he knew all along that I had placed him there, despite knowing over the years that Harry was mistreated by them," said Dumbledore, as though stating the obvious.

"You have claimed to him you will do the most you can to ensure he does not return there next summer? Why is there no certainty in this decision? Surely it is a given he will not return there!" said Snape sharply, eyes hardening slightly. Dumbledore recognised the sudden change in Snape's expression.

"Because he must return there Severus; whether we like it or not, he hasn't got a choice," Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him, his voice becoming cold, "No. Let me finish."

Snape nodded obediently and leaned back to show he was listening, "Harry isn't like the first year Slytherin or occasional Hufflepuff pupils you discover reports of abuse with every other year Severus, Harry has a lot more prominence in the world to be able look at and consider the small details in his life. I understand you are very protective of those in abused households, given your… experiences and I am aware you empathise through your Godson too, but it is essential you must understand that Harry is different. If there was any other way, by all means I would take it, but is essential Harry should return there for many more reasons than just blood wards. A little mistreatment on the side, is not nearly as detrimental to Harry or this world, compared to if Harry stops taking orders from me, or even potentially the light side altogether. I feel more remorse than you can ever imagine for what I have put Harry through, a young man with a heart of gold, but I must keep reminding myself, he wouldn't be the person we need him to be today without his experiences."

"This is more than a little mistreatment on the side, Headmaster," said Snape quietly, absently staring at the back of Potter's head suspiciously; that wasn't movement, was it?

"Well if anything, at least tonight has shown you that Harry truly isn't anything like his father in the senses you perceive him to be. In fact, I'd say he is more similar to you," a small twinkle arriving in Dumbledore's eyes again.

Snape looked back at Dumbledore incredulously. Of all things to come out with on a night like this! "I think I am more than aware that Potter does not resemble his father, as much as he I believed he did before, but that does not change anything!" he spluttered indignantly, "I believe on that note it is best you head to sleep Albus and allow me the comfort of my own bed." He quickly glanced back at Potter's head again, dismayed, almost certain now of his previous suspicions.

"Very well, I shall take your leave now. I trust you will not be uttering a single word to anyone regarding our conversations this evening Severus; I'm sure you understand the importance of keeping this situation discreet?" said Dumbledore lightly, but there was an element of order about his sentence.

"Obviously Headmaster; now, must I direct you to the fireplace, or are you able to leave yourself?" said Snape cuttingly, glancing at the kitchen fireplace in view. Dumbledore chuckled softly as he walked over to the door instead of the fireplace.

"I think I shall not waste anymore floo powder, and I could do with a walk to clear my thoughts. You may not believe me Severus, but I do feel regret for what I have had to do to Harry," said Dumbledore sadly, as he walked out the door. Snape stood still in place for a good few moments for Dumbledore to walk well away from the Dungeons before walking towards the couch. Snape picked up the Sleeping Potion from the floor, and saw with a grimace that it was indeed, still full.

"Mr Potter," said Snape simply, not being able to imagine what emotions the boy in front of him was going through. Harry jerked his head, sitting up with tear stains across his face. He felt ridiculous for showing weakness in front of Snape of all people, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough at the moment.

"You heard-" Snape began but Harry cut him off, voice stony.

"Yes I heard. I heard everything, every single word. Every single lie. Please, just give me the sleeping potion and let me sleep now. I need to get away from this, I need to sleep." Harry was once again fingering the scar on his left arm, Snape noticed idly.

Snape looked searchingly into Potter's eyes, an essence of pity approaching him after a very long time. Wordlessly, Snape picked up the potion, and Harry gingerly took it from him, inclining his head in gratitude.

...

Harry had become gradually more and more thunderstruck as he heard the conversation progress between the two Professors. Such betrayal, and such lies. Snape hadn't told Dumbledore anything, so he had technically kept his word, yet Dumbledore had already known everything.

What had been the point? What had been the point of the endless tiresome glamours, that came alongside with the hiding, they lying and the pain? When all along, Harry could have confided in someone at least, like his friends, and shared the pain and received support. Harry had unnecessarily burdened himself with pressure of hiding the abuse. What made him feel most angry was when he heard Dumbledore mention the fact that he would not be who he is today without his past. And suddenly it all made sense.

It all clicked together, perfectly, a little too perfectly.

Harry now no longer believed the headmaster was as innocent and twinkle-eyed everyone trusted him to be. Harry now saw Albus Dumbledore as a very manipulative old man who treated life like a chess board.

Everyone, depending on their importance was a certain chess piece. Harry had been treated one of the roughest and was still facing the consequences. Being brought up by the Dursleys, so he can become strong, neutral, and unaware of the depths of his true identity? Not checking up on him once… or had he? Harry now knew Dumbledore was aware of most of what was going on behind the doors of Number Four Privet Drive. But what the Headmaster didn't realise that instead of strengthening Harry, he was breaking him.

Harry began to think even further, past being dumped at the Dursleys. What about not helping Sirius receive a trial when he vouched for so many others, like Snape? It was because he had too many attachments to the boy-who-lived, his main chess piece. Dumbledore wouldn't want his game plan corrupted by a Godfather that could easily take custody of his precious object.

And suddenly, it did not escape Harry's notice now that it was _he_ that ended up fighting for the Philosophers Stone and it was _he_ who fought in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry also, soon after the Tri-Wizard tournament, had realised that Dumbledore could have put a stop to him taking part, being the powerful wizard he is. But he didn't. It seemed as though the Headmaster wanted to push and test Harry Potter further and further until he had become the ultimate weapon. It all made sense.

But Harry also realised in this time that Dumbledore had a huge task at hand, and thinking of the greater good, was indeed quite important. As well as this, he noted that Albus Dumbledore was a very powerful man who had a lot of blind control over many people. It was important to not get on his wrong side, and more important to pretend to be under the Headmasters control until he was prepared enough to go his own way. It was Dumbledore's last words before leaving the door that had caused the final heartbreak for Harry, and triggered the unshed tears to finally fall, burning as they did.

So Harry drank down the whole of the sleeping potion, curling back into his previous position, his last emotion being gratitude to the Potions master for not berating him for not taking it in the first place.

...

Severus walked back to his office a hollow pit in his stomach. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was now just past half one in the morning. He sighed softly and headed to his desk. He opened his draw and grabbed a piece of parchment, settling it slowly on the surface of his table. He then grabbed a quill and dipped the nib into black ink. This was a tough decision to make, but Severus felt certain from within that it was simply necessary to stop Potter from having to return there. And thus he began to write:

_Dear Poppy,_

_I trust you are well from your recent trip to France. Thank you once again for checking up on my other household, it saved me the expense greatly in these economic times, for as you know I am still waiting for private floo locks to be confirmed._

_However, my reason for writing at this hour isn't for a mere exchange of pleasantries; I am afraid a Child Protection Conference will need to be arranged with no delay, and at the most discretion we can possibly manage. There will be no need for said child's guardians to be present, for there is a strong chance their presence is going to disruption. I would recommend Minerva be informed as well but only once we have set a date._

_Apologies for starting this school year on such a negative note but I stress it is imperative to make preparations as soon as possible._

_Severus_

Severus rolled the parchment and called for one of the Hogwarts house elves; he appeared by his side looking dishevelled and confused for being called at this hour.

"Head over to the Hospital Wing's private quarters, and ensure Madame Pomfrey receives and reads this immediately," ordered Snape, handing over the message. The elf nodded tiredly and popped out of sight. Severus leant back on his chair and looked at the clock once again; ten minutes to two. It had been an extraordinary night with more revelations than Snape could ever remember having all at once. Though it was the callous attitude of the Headmaster that he could not fathom; imagine if that had been one of his Slytherin's that was being treated that way – he wouldn't stand for it.

But this was Potter, _James _Potter's son, a bully who made his life at Hogwarts a living hell. Harry Potter was not in his House nor had he ever cared for the boy before. So what was changing now? Learning of the boy's abuse shouldn't make it difference to how he feels, surely?

But it has. Severus thought back to his own Godson, who despite has not been terribly physically abused like Potter, has had a huge experience in neglect and disregard for his needs. But Draco had Severus, who did this wayward boy truly have now his Godfather was dead? Even so, that stupid mutt had hardly appeared a father figure.

Shaking his head, the Potions master stretched, finally getting up and locking the Office; no matter whose son he was, no matter how much he still disliked Mr Potter, Severus could not condone the Headmaster's decision regarding Potter. It was a mistake, a simply very wrong mistake.

Severus paused over the sleeping boy on the couch as he headed to his bedroom.

"You aren't going to go back there Potter, I can promise you that," he muttered to himself before continuing into his bedroom and shutting the door soundly.

...

Chapter End

Hope that was an enjoyable chapter for you all. Thanks to LM Ryder the Batty Bat, angelazzarello94, Murgy31, Allie Danger, Caraline Fisher, Guest, Chameleon lover and StraightEdgeCmPunksGirl for your reviews.

To the people who have clicked follow/favourite for this story, please do try and drop me a review as well to tell me what you think so far! I love receiving reviews; they motivate me to get the chapter written faster!

Best wishes

Raiise


	7. The Pomfrey Puzzle

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Thank you everyone for all your feedback! This chapter is concentrating on getting all our characters up to date!

Chapter Seven: The Pomfrey Puzzle

...

Harry woke up uncomfortable, but having had the most restful sleep he'd had in weeks. His feet were freezing but his body was warm, and whilst surface beneath him was nothing compared to his Gryffindor dormitory bed, it was miles better than his makeshift bed at the Dursley's. He stifled a yawn, stretching, eyes still shut. And then it all flooded back.

Snape knew. Dumbledore knew; he had already known. Snape saw and had healed him. Dumbledore made him sleep here; Dumbledore had already known. Dumbledore had already known. Dumbledore had already known. And Snape knew Harry knew that _Dumbledore had already known_! He sat up abruptly, his mind racing and chanting the same ramble of treacherous words over and over again.

The Gryffindor jumped out of bed, and slipped his shoes on. He glanced at the time and saw it was approaching six thirty in the morning. Hopefully he'd be able to get out of here before Snape presented himself. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.

"Good morning. Mr Potter, allow me to transfigure your clothes back into your robes, then you may leave my Quarters immediately," said Snape, emerging from the kitchen with a coffee in his hand; he had been watching Potter for a few moments now. The man looked the same as ever, his lank hair surrounding his pale bony face structure. One wouldn't have been able to tell the Professor had barely slept the previous night.

Harry complied by opening his arms out, and within a second, he was wearing his Gryffindor uniform; it was feeling crisp and fresh as though just out of dry cleaning. "Thank you Professor."

"I should let you know now Potter, that in recent light of the discoveries we have found, we will have to set up a meeting with Madame Pomfrey and most likely your head of House, Professor McGonagall. It is called a Child Protection Conference. How you managed to escape their clutches up until now is beyond me, but nevertheless, it will have to be arranged. The bruise salve I want you to apply three times a day until it runs out is on the table next to you. Your contusions should have disappeared by that point, but if they haven't, do not hesitate to retrieve some more from me."

"Thank you Sir... I thought Dumbledore said no one is meant to know?" said Harry quickly, his voice turning cold as he picked up the salve.

Severus internally winced at the recollection of finding Potter awake and having listened to his conversation. "That's Professor Dumbledore to you Potter, and I would refrain from saying anything to the Headmaster for now, until necessary individuals have been informed."

"But I thought Professor Dumbledore didn't-"

"You will not go back there Potter!" Snape snapped, and Harry shut down his protest immediately.

"What I suggest to you, is to keep your head down these next few days and let the adults do what they need to do. You are very well aware that when taking matters into your own hands, things do not generally tend to go well?" said Snape, sneering down at the Gryffindor. Harry looked down, face flushed and feeling borderline mutinous. How dare he bring up Sirius like that? But why on earth was Snape… almost looking out for him?

"Very well Sir. I won't say anything to anyone," said Harry, even though he knew he wouldn't have anyway. It was simply too humiliating.

"That's not what I implied Potter; you do need to talk to someone. I'd suggest someone you can trust not to spread or accidently let it get into the media. Perhaps your friend Miss Granger?" said Snape considerately, mentally kicking himself for bringing up Black in such a cold manner. He needed to find ways to be slightly more supportive or there would be no chance of Potter complying in an open manner during his Child Protection Conference.

"Sure Sir," said Harry, replying lukewarmly. _Not a chance, _thought Harry pitilessly, _She'd react worse than Mrs Weasley!... Wait, probably not actually._

"I have one more request of you Mr Potter; on no circumstances must you reapply a concealment charm on your wounds. Do you understand?" said Snape seriously.

"Why ever not? I can't go round with this on my face! It wasn't there yesterday was it?" replied Harry, pointing viciously at the healing bruise on his eye. Luckily due to the ratio of the vast amount of bruising ointment to the surface area of Harry's cheek, the bruise on his face had more or less disappeared. But it was the scars on his arms that Harry was most concerned about; how was he to explain those to anyone who possibly might see?

"Mr Potter, clearly you did not read into the effects of glamours very well. You have a cursed scar on your forehead; the acute implications are worse you dimwit! Therefore, any other scars and blemishes on your skin that are being concealed will intermingle with your magical core in attempt to discount the curse. It drains you! Side effects can be regular collapses, nose bleeds and even depression. Not to mention the time it takes for your magic to go back to its optimum levels whilst it struggles to equilibrate within your core once more," said Snape, scowling as his voice became louder.

Harry didn't really understand much of what Professor Snape had just said but he knew it sounded bad.

Blood drained from his face as he took in the implications. "Does this well- uh- well mean that my magic has been drained?"

"No, obviously not Potter you've only been applying charms for two days. There won't be a significant effect, but any longer than three-four days and you'd be rather exhausted; more than a week and then things become critical. Therefore it is quite essential you do not apply them."

Harry looked at Snape, guilt and fear mingled on his expression. "But Sir; whenever I went outside the Dursley's house, say to the supermarket to pick up their groceries, my magic would always clear the marks on my arms or face without me even using a wand. It just happened, because I sort of willed it to happen. The moment I came back inside though the marks reappeared. I had to manually reapply them on train though."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a lot more complicated than he thought it would be. He stared down at the far too skinny teenager below him and found himself thinking of nutrients potions he should start making for Pomfrey to give the boy. He shook his head bemused.

"There will be an adverse effect; but not as detrimental as if you physically used your wand. Again, this can all be dealt with when we speak to Madame Pomfrey. For now just vow to me you will not apply them again; make an excuse up to your distant peers regarding any marks they see."

Even Harry wasn't stupid enough to use a spell that could affect his magic short term or chronically.

"I promise Sir," he said, turning around to leave through the office doors which Snape had unlocked earlier this morning. But before leaving immediate doors between the quarters and office, Harry turned around somewhat reluctantly, embarrassment clearly etched upon his face, "Professor – thank you. For all of this and… for not telling the Headmaster I know what he's done to me." Snape merely nodded in recognition at Potter's gratitude and watched the boy walk out. He called out quickly and Harry popped his head back into view with a questioning glance.

"Do talk to someone Potter," said Snape sternly. Harry vaguely inclined his head, blinking once before leaving the dungeons all together, no intention to talk to anyone. The feeling that was welling up inside Harry was rather disconcerting, for whilst it felt like he was receiving care and concern, Harry knew it wasn't; how could it be when Snape hated Harry so much?

...

Harry hadn't yet come up with an elaborate reasoning as to why he had not been in Gryffindor tower last night, but it appeared that he had not needed one. Ron himself hadn't been in the dormitories that night, having shared particular Room of Requirement with a certain other Gryffindor. And the other boys had just rolled their eyes to each other the previous night, assuming Ron and Harry had been on one of their usual mischievous adventures. Therefore, not a word of confusion was uttered, and Harry had escaped all questioning aside from the bruise, which Harry managed to pass as kneeing himself in the face whilst getting dressed. Ron had roared with laughter at this in the Gryffindor Common Room where he had found his two friends, whilst Hermione slapped his shoulder, a twitch nevertheless escaping from her lips.

He settled down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, stretching his shoulders. His body hadn't felt so relaxed in a good few weeks.

"Harry, you really have lost a lot of weight," said Hermione, scrutinising him up and down. Harry shrugged noncommittally even though he knew it was the effect of the concealment charms that had been covering up the weight loss. Luckily his robes were flared enough to keep his body still discreet. Ron looked up at Hermione from his large breakfast, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yeah; listen Hermione I'm really with you this year when it comes to NEWT study. It's so important for me to become an Auror, so getting those top grades is essential. Plus," he continued, voice lowering, "What better chance do I have than fighting Voldemort if I'm alongside the best people at defence?"

Hermione beamed, her face frightened, yet determined. "Yes, definitely Harry, definitely! We'll go to the Library as often as we can and we can set up a timetable and maybe try and get some extra reading in- you never know where it can come in use-"

"Don't forget Ron will be in the Common Room waiting for you if you ever decide to check in with the boyfriend," said Ron loudly, his ears immediately colouring after he spoke. Hermione briefly looked at Ron uncertainly, and then smiled swiftly back.

"Well you are more than welcome to join us. I have Ancient Runes now, so I'll see you boys later." Hermione picked up her bag and gave them a wave before leaving the table.

"I don't need to join you both, I'm not the Chosen One, so I don't need to 'know what may come in use'," said Ron amused, imitating Hermione but Harry didn't find anything particularly funny about it.

"Come off it Ron, she's only trying to help. But making a timetable does sound like a good idea this year," said Harry thoughtfully. "I think during my morning frees I'm going to create just that. I'll see you a bit later." He also picked up his bag and left the Great Hall, heading for the Gryffindor dormitories.

...

By the end of the next two periods, Harry had completed his timetable and had entirely reorganised all his notes. Still having half an hour until lunch, he lay down on his bed and stared at the high ceiling, last night's events trickling into his mind, now he was no longer working. Snape had mentioned something about a Child Protection Consultation- no, Conference. But Harry wasn't really a child was he anymore? He'd never really been treated like one either. What was the point of one when he was only going to be strictly a child for less than a year?

Harry turned to his side and pulled the bruise salve out of his pocket, staring at it. Closing the curtains around him, Harry shrugged off his robes and began the lacklustre task of applying the salve for the first time that day. It felt almost strangely relieving the fact that he was no longer the only person in the Wizarding World who knew his secret. And it was someone who deemed it offensive behaviour, unlike Dumbledore who he now knew had been aware of the situation all along. Harry felt a lot calmer than he did this morning about this shocking discovery. But although the Headmaster deemed it necessary for Harry to return to the Dursley's next year, Snape didn't want this to continue. Despite it being only one more summer, he didn't want Harry back there. And he was going to get Madame Pomfrey involved right? Harry couldn't decide if this was a good thing or not, but whatever was to happen now, Snape was right; after last year, let the adults deal with this.

...

During this morning period where Harry had been conscientiously working and organising, Snape had been teaching the Gryffindor and Slytherin third year Potions class. It was approaching the last half an hour until lunch period, and Severus simply could not wait to skip lunch and slide in a quick kip. The previous night had been quite disruptive, and though it may not show, Severus was rather exhausted. Any sleep he had managed to obtain having been filled with dreams of a certain Lily Evans berating his person for not taking better care of her son; it had been most disturbing. A letter appeared by his side whilst the students were copying notes from the black board which took Severus away from his musings. Snape recognised immediately the scrawly handwriting of Madame Pomfrey.

_Severus, _

_As much as I protest, why do you refrain from calling me Poppy? I can understand your formal behaviour towards the other staff members to an extent, but given our frequent encounters for numerous different reasons, I expect us on at least first name basis._

_And it was a pleasure checking upon your house; such a wonderful space, it's a shame you do not stay there more often! _

_Regarding the Child Protection Conference, I must say Severus, I am most impressed. I was waiting at least up until half-term before I could settle my nerves on what circumstances I'm going to hear regarding our fresh first years; but to unravel within the first three days of this pupil entering? It is most impressive as well as disheartening of course to think the signs must be that obvious. I do not understand your reservations but, as always, I shall put my trust in them. Therefore, I shall not inform Minnie until the date is set. It should be possible in the next two weeks. Will I be receiving a name in advance or will it be the usual form of disclosure on the day?_

_I'll inform you as soon as I can get the necessary documents and paperwork ready._

_Poppy_

Severus sighed; how would Pompfrey react when it was not one who had merely been in this school for three days, but one who had been under her and the rest of the staff's care for the past five years? He scowled at Minerva's nickname _Minnie_ in disgust, and folded the parchment, placing it in his desk. There would be no need for further contact until the date had been set. And then Potter could be informed. Severus just hoped it would all be done in time before the Headmaster realised what Snape had done.

But then something triggered in Severus' mind that Potter had said the previous night:_ "__Well, I'm not sure. But Madame Pomfrey had seen something when she's patched me up in the past, she questioned me once, in first year, but it was never brought up again."_

Perhaps a short snooze wasn't in his fortune. This was something Severus knew he had to investigate into before turning up with Potter in the next two weeks for the discussion. It was a strict law for such discoveries to be reported and addressed, and Severus could simply not understand how Poppy, being an advocate for professionalism, could let this pass. He released the third year pupils five minutes early, much to their delight and surprise but he dampened their joy by setting an extra roll of parchment for homework. He then got up, locked his office and Potions Lab, and discreetly headed towards the Hospital Wing.

Upon arriving, he saw Madame Pomfrey from a distance organising a cabinet of a fresh batch of potions that had come through this morning from St Mungos. She was humming softly, oblivious to the Potions master watching her. With a hint of compunction, Snape stunned the medi-witch lightly then immediately placed a cushioning charm on the ground. He entered the Hospital Wing and shielded the area from view as he approached the middle-aged witch. With a stab of repentance, he held her up and cast, "Legilimens" into her mind, placing a mental illusionment charm upon himself so he wouldn't be noticed.

It took a good few jumpings of memories before Severus had found the one he had been looking for. It made Severus realise just how abnormally often Potter had had to stay at the Hospital Wing. He finally watched a young eleven year old Harry Potter sit on one of the hospital beds, his feet not yet touching the ground. An equally young Ronald Weasley was asleep in the next bed, his hand a strange mixture of a dulling black, green and purple.

"_So Mr Potter," said Madame Pomfrey sternly, "Is it true Mr Weasley had been bitten by a dog, or do you know something we don't?"_

"_I'm serious Madame Pomfrey," said Harry quickly eyes wide and unconvincingly innocent, "It was really a dog. A ferocious one at that!"_

"_I'm sure," she replied wryly, before etches of concern crossed her features. "Though dear, if I am not to know where exactly Mr Weasley has acquired this wound, how am I to know it is not infectious? You've been in close proximity to him and you may have caught something. Let me just run a quick spell Mr Potter so you don't have to remove any items of clothing, and I'll know for certain. I can also check your friend for any signs of infection."_

_As Harry stood up in reluctance, Madame Pomfrey took this as consent and launched a soft golden glow from her wand, analysing Harry's body. But the spell abruptly began to release quick and jagged black sparks and the medi-witch lowered her wand with uncontained shock._

But the memory changed, altered, and Snape recognised immediately the signs of a long-term Confundus Charm. With an uncontained dismay, Severus watched Professor Dumbledore appear from the misty features of the memory, sitting down next to the confused medi-witch. Snape realised immediately that there was no hope of finding the original memory if it had been the Headmaster who had used the spell.

"_And there is nothing to be concerned about Poppy, I assure you each pupil in our school is quite safe and all suspicious backgrounds are most certainly looked into. He is quite well," said Dumbledore reassuringly. Poppy smiled in return thankfully, feeding off the assurance the elder man had provided her with._

Severus could see the power of persuasion the Headmaster had used with his piercing eyes - one that the muggles are known to call hypnotism - and he had to bite back the urge to pay a visit to the senile man's office immediately as he left Madame Pomfrey's mind. He settled the medi-witch onto one of the hospital beds by the potions cabinet, lightly obliviated and then rennervated her, no longer feeling any form of guilt for his actions in comparison to the revelation that had been bestowed upon him. He glanced inconspicuously at the medi-witch outside the Hospital Wing before leaving the area, to ensure she had not noticed anything had happened as she continued to bustle about the cabinet of potions.

What bothered Severus, even more so than the fact Dumbledore had befuddled Madame Pomfrey before she could pursue with her investigation into Potter, was the black sparks that had issued from the witch's wand when she performed the simple health charm. To think that the eleven year old had suffered that much from that age or possibly younger, without confiding in anyone, was sickening and scarily déjà vu in relation to his own past. The Potions Master headed back to his Office, mentally occluding these uncomfortable thoughts – this all could wait until the Child Protection Conference. For now, he had better prepare for his afternoon lessons.

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully for Snape aside from giving Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years a very long and complicated lecture on the arts of Potions, scaring them to half their wits. It was a highly enjoyable way to relieve the stress of earlier in the day, watching the first years dart about the lab with fearful expressions, not daring to look at the scary Professor in the eye. Though peace wasn't set to last for long; little did Severus know that he was to have another sleepless night due a different lonely flummoxed sixth former.

...

Draco grumpily walked across the dungeons in his green night suit, his grey socks padding across the corridor being the only sound made. It was approaching one in the morning, but Draco could barely sleep. It was only his third night back at Hogwarts, and his guard was crumbling; therefore Draco decided to turn to the only man he knew he could – his godfather.

So Draco took Severus' word seriously when he had claimed, "You may come to me at any time," whilst giving Draco the password to the portrait. Therefore he decided to pay a visit to the Potions Master at the early hours of the morning with not much guilt at all. Perhaps this ungodly hour meant he'd also manage to get a sleeping potion too, Draco thought to himself with a half-hearted smirk.

The young Slytherin was certain he was doing the right thing, he was positive; if there was someone he could trust it was Snape. His fingers brushed against the stony walls as he continued his journey from the Slytherin dorms to his godfather's quarters. His Malfoy guard was down, and in that moment, he was just a young boy, forced into the bigger evils of life. Sev could help him. Maybe Sev could persuade him. NO. Draco couldn't let him talk to his father. Draco wanted this; he wanted the power and glory he would gain if he achieved this. Or at least he thought he did. Right now, he just needed comfort - Not that he'd ever admit that.

Soon enough, Draco reached the portrait that would allow him access to Snape's quarters. It was a delicate painting of two sleeping cats, one a tabby and the other snow white. The tabby had curled itself around the lighter cat protectively in the basket they were currently snoozing in. Draco cleared his throat to awaken the two felines and he could have sworn, he thought he saw the tabby glare at him for waking them up. Draco chuckled lightly and said softly, _"semper lilium, numquam decrescentes stellam"_. He hadn't a clue what the Latin meant, but he most certainly was honoured to know that he was the only other person, other than Madame Pomfrey and Snape himself who knew the password.

Draco entered the quarters and settled on the couch. He knew that Snape would be alerted from his bedroom that there was an intruder. He saw an empty vial on the table beside him and took a sniff; a sleeping potion. He wondered why Sev would have left it there, and sure hoped that he hadn't taken it tonight; otherwise Draco would be waiting there a while.

"Draco, what in Merlin's name – What do you want?" said a haggard looking Snape from his bedroom door. Draco jumped at the sound and almost dropped the vial in the process. He quickly regained composure and set the vial by the table, getting up quickly.

"Hey Sev… I know it's late…" muttered Draco, taking in his godfathers expression.

"What exactly have you come here to ask for at this absurd time Draco? Is it really so urgent that you could not have waited until the morning at least?" Snape snapped, walking over to Draco.

"I was just going to ask for some dreamless sleep," Draco muttered, deciding against speaking to his godfather at this present. Severus sighed softly; it was evident Snape had been too rash with him. The Slytherin wouldn't have come to Snape unless it was important.

"Is there something else Draco?"

"No. Well yes, but not now. It doesn't matter right now," Draco replied.

"Of course it matters. Draco, you know I'm here for you no matter what, and if you come to me with a problem, despite the time, I am willing to help you."

"I don't need help. I just…" Draco sighed. "Honest. It doesn't really matter."

"Draco… I'm sure it does. At least, what has it got to do with? Your father?"

Draco looked up at Snape wearily and whispered, "Yeah. It does."

Snape made an effort not to change his expression to pity. Draco hated pity. "What has he done now?"

So Draco gestured Severus to sit down on the couch with him, as began to break into a tale that would probably take up a good part of the night.

...

Chapter End

I believe this is my longest chapter yet; sorry for the slight delay, but hope the length makes up for it!

Even though I had completed this chapter last week, I've made a rule that I will not post until I am at least a third way through the next chapter and I will probably only post at the weekend. Therefore, there will be a constant flow of chapters rather than disjointed gaps in-between.

I know it didn't really fit, but I simply had to add Draco in at the end!

Thank you to those that reviewed: Luiz4200, StrightEdgeCmPunksGirl, Nekobaby1997, WestARMYrotc, pammiez x3, Allie Danger, Chameleon lover, Caraline Fisher, Talia-Elizabeth, FuzzyHyperLlama, Spellecho, sohrem666 and Murgy31! Big thank you to Julia Guest as well who gave me some incredibly detailed reviews!

Any of the followers of the story, please take a moment to pop a review in! Even if it's just one word, I'd love to know what you think!

Until next time!

Best wishes

Raiise


	8. Draco's Eye-Opener

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Eight: Draco's Eye-Opener

...

"This can't go on!" said Snape angrily, staring at Draco with shock, "How could you have even considered this Draco? It's too dangerous. Draco, your father is doing this for his own glory; not yours. You cannot be used!" Draco had speaking for the last hour, giving in-depth details of his summer and the task Lucius had set out for him; gradually throughout the conversation, Draco had unconsciously edged closer and closer to his godfather, until their legs were practically touching.

"I'm not saying this is the best of situations for me, but it is an opportunity nevertheless," said the young Slytherin quietly. "Regardless of that, I have no choice. He'll kill me if I didn't comply."

And then Snape did something very out of character. He gave Draco a hug. He pulled the Slytherin towards his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Despite the fact the two had not had much loving contact from anyone, it was not awkward. Snape had never experienced much of a family, just like Draco. Whilst Snape's childhood had not experienced abuse like Harry's or even Draco's, he had most certainly watched it. His father, the drunkard he was, inflicted most his anger on Snape's mother. It was mainly echoes of loneliness that surrounded Snape right up to adulthood and even until this present day.

"This is not even the Dark Lord's idea!" Snape continued to rant, "You… How will you befriend the boy Draco? I'm not sure if you have noticed, but you have despised each other for the last five years; I know your father asked this of you in first year as well! And this was when Potter was even more of a gullible fool than he is currently; there's no chance of it working now. And he sticks to his Golden Trio like Armadillo blood on a cauldron."

Draco chuckled grimly and replied, "I know, it's not an easy situation there. I have a feeling I'm just going to have to ad lib. I dunno. I really don't. I've tried speaking to him but you're right; as daft as he is, he's not going to suddenly strike a friendship with me." Severus sighed. Why did Draco have to tell him? His godson wasn't aware Snape was a spy, but at the same time this had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. Snape could also see through Draco's calm facial composure by the ineloquent mannerisms in which he was speaking; it was incredibly un-Draco.

"Draco, you have put me in a very difficult situation. I want to be here for you, but this is the most ridiculous idea your father has made to date!"

"Potter's changed a lot. I can tell; the way he's been acting these past two days isn't usual. If I could possibly find out what's wrong, maybe I could work on that-" mused Draco, changing the topic. Snape could do nothing to help him and Draco was beginning to regret telling him now.

Severus looked at his godson mildly impressed; he was quite observational indeed but nevertheless Snape caught the change of subject. "Draco, as idiotic as the Gryffindor is this is an impossible task. If the Dark Lord had made this decision this would be a different story."

"You know… sometimes I wish Aunt Bella was right; that you were a spy. Then you wouldn't have to berate me like my father." Snape looked at Draco in badly concealed shock. The young Slytherin, heir to the whole of the Malfoy fortune… Does not want to be a death eater? Snape cleared his throat; he'd have to be careful how he addressed this. He would never let anything happen to Draco that he was not willing to do. However, Draco was too young to know the truth. It wasn't that he wasn't trustworthy; it was a matter of Draco not being strong enough. If Lucius Malfoy ever broke through Draco's mind barriers, Snape's life would be in grave jeopardy.

"Draco, I'm going to speak to you as a godfather, not as a Death eater. If you do not wish to be the Dark Lord's servant, you do not have to be. It is a very hard choice, harder than many other choices in life. You are bound to a powerful dark wizard for your whole life, and everything you do must be with the intentions to satisfy him, and him only. It is difficult to experience a loving family as well as serve the master - as you may well have realized," Draco snorted at this, "- so here's my advice to you against the Dark Lord's wishes for the first time and only time; if your heart is not into serving him, go to the Headmaster. He WILL protect you, he wouldn't let any harm come in your way. You will be useless to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, if you do not care for his desires."

"I do care!" Draco suddenly yelled. "I want this and I deserve this. I deserve the power that I know only HE can give ME. I'll show my father just how great I can be, and that beating me down wasn't the way to get me to follow. I want to follow him, I want this, I do!"

Severus looked at Draco, half cagily and half in amusement. "No, Draco, you do not. You think you want this because you have a mild fascination in the dark arts and you wish to prove your father wrong. You're a sixteen year old teenage boy with your whole life ahead of you. There's no shame in admitting you wish to follow something different from your family. It's okay to do so, and it will also be potentially safer for you."

"If Dumbledore is so great Sev, why have you never turned to the light side?" Draco spat questionably. Then he immediately regretted it; that was personal and he shouldn't have asked. But he did have a fair point, if Sev thought serving the Dark Lord was that hard, why didn't he just turn to Dumbledore?

"I do not have to explain my reasons!" snapped Snape. The boy was starting to infuriate him. It was dangerous enough suggesting such an option, now he's asking for private information!

"Alright okay! Before I leave do you have any dreamless sleep?" said Draco quickly, putting the subject back on him.

"It is too late into the night for you to take dreamless sleep. Go back to the Slytherin dorms and try and to sleep," said Snape shortly, getting up from the couch. Draco looked down in disappointment for a fraction of a moment then quickly regained his unreadable mask.

"Ok Sev, thanks for everything."

Just as Draco was about to leave through the portrait, Severus called out to Draco by his bedroom door. Draco looked back dully, one eyebrow raised, "Yes?"

Severus took pity on the boy and gave him a knowing look. "Very well. Come on then. Come over here."

Both of Draco's eyebrows raised this time, into confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm hinting Draco, and don't make me drag you over from there. It's late and I'd quite like to receive as much sleep possible," said Severus, leaning against the half open door.

Draco coloured very quickly, "But- No! I haven't since I was like…12!"

"14 is more like it Draco; and either way, who's to know? You need a restful sleep, so come along before I change my mind," replied Severus, smirking slightly at the very embarrassed boy in front of him. Severus then walked in to his bedroom and lay on the left hand side of the bed, followed by his blushing furiously godson, who lay down next to his godfather on the right.

But Draco slept incredibly well; with not a single nightmare that night. Needless to say he was quietly grateful.

...

The next morning Draco walked down the corridor towards his lesson Care for Magical Creatures in deep in thought from his conversation with Severus the previous night. It had been most certainly eye opening – This was the second time the Headmaster had now been recommended to him, firstly by Potter and now his own godfather. Was there an opportunity he was missing here? But how can there possibly be one?

What was he to do? No; there was no way he could go to the Headmaster. Potter's an idiot and Sev must be wrong... And he's hiding something. Why had he not gone to the Headmaster up until now if it was the easy way out? No... No one can be stronger than his father except the Dark Lord... Sev doesn't understand. He doesn't know what Lucius Malfoy is... really like. Draco walked out the doors of Hogwarts and towards Hagrid's small hut. He felt sick. Why did his father put him up to this? It couldn't be true what Sev was saying. Draco truly believed he was going to achieve a grand amount of respect out of this. His father will merely bask in all the glory of capturing Potter alongside Draco. Talking of the boy, he was already standing near the hut with Granger? But why was he stroking her hair?

Abruptly a red-headed figure brushed past him and strode to Harry. "What are you touching her for?" bleated Ron, giving Harry a not so gentle shove on the shoulder.

"Ron, Ron, leave it, you don't understand-" Hermione moved away from Harry and grabbed Ron's shoulders to stop him pushing Harry again.

"What's there not to understand?" thundered Ron lowly, his face matching the colour of his hair as he realised just what he was insinuating about his friends, "I saw him– I saw him-"

"Ron... I swear... What the hell did you see? We were just talking and Hermione just had something in her-" Harry began to say turning towards Hermione, totally bewildered.

"Harry… I don't know what got into me. It's just these past few days have been really odd," said Ron nonsensically, as he raised his arms up in a gesture of surrender. But then Harry did something he really would regret later. He flinched. Harry began to back away slowly... his hands shaking irrepressibly.

"Harry... No, I wasn't going to..." By this time, many other students had arrived to watch the concluding quarrel between the golden three.

"What's going on here?"

Draco froze at the voice.

"I am your cover for Hagrid for this week. As some of you may know, I am Professor Markel your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher however I do have a small amount of knowledge in Magical Creatures – I daresay maybe even more than your previous teacher!" Some of the Slytherins chuckled, but most of the rest of the group looked reproachful. Draco was still frozen in shock. William Markel. He'd forgotten that he was the new defence against the dark arts teacher.

Neither Ron nor Harry had forgotten what happened. Ron looked at Harry, despite feeling absolutely ridiculous for the arrogant assumption that his best friend had made a move on his girlfriend, gave Harry a concerned face, indicating that they 'need to talk'.

"Okay pairs. You have twenty seconds to get yourselves into pairs otherwise I'll do it myself," said Professor Markel, turning around and looking at Hagrid's house with his eyebrow slightly raised. Ron looked around and saw Hermione moving away from him. Ron understood the signal and went up to Harry.

"We'll work together, is that okay with you?" asked Ron, his face incredibly apologetic. Harry merely nodded numbly, feeling his shakiness dissolve finally.

Hermione looked around for a pair but could not find anyone untaken apart from two Slytherins and a Hufflepuff. Strangely, Knott did not choose Malfoy but the Hufflepuff. This left Hermione with Malfoy. Internally growling, she walked up to him.

"Granger." Draco said, teeth clenched, attempting not to groan.

"Malfoy..." Hermione replied dejectedly, glancing at Ron. Ron looked sincerely contrite, which made her feel slightly better.

Markel turned around and grinned enthusiastically. "Well that was fairly easy; it would have taken the first years another hour. Good. I would like you all to go into the forbidden forest, stun a creature, you may have heard of in your past lessons and come back. Whichever couple seems to have found the most interesting creature wins. It's fairly simple for a double lesson hey?" Markel looked around at the pupils doubtful faces. "Come on! You're in sixth form now!" He clapped his hands together. "You have one hour. The last half an hour we can discuss the creatures. Go!"

Draco looked at Markel curiously. Why was he behaving so friendly? He wasn't anything like his father had made him out to be. Despite the man being very new and relatively unknown to the Death Eater circle, Lucius Malfoy had made Markel appear very harsh.

Harry and Ron set out on their search. Harry decided to make amends before Ron could get any more insults in. "Listen, Ron, I'm really sorry if you thought I was trying anything with Hermione. I swear she is just like my sister. I wasn't doing anything. I honestly don't know what you were seeing. There was just something in her hair. It was nothing Ron," said Harry firmly.

"I know that deep down Harry. It's just the way you were grabbing her head – I love her mate and I guess I was getting a bit overprotective. These past few days…" Ron trailed off uncertainly.

"Go on," edged Harry, turning to face his best friend.

"It's just – This past summer obviously Hermione had only seen me, so I've been the only person in the picture. I just… What if she realises it's not me… she wants?" Ron finished awkwardly, not looking directly at Harry. His fellow Gryffindor bristled however.

"Do you honestly think Hermione, "righteous-save-the-house-elves" Hermione, would do that to you? Mate, I've had a feeling for about three years now that you two will eventually get together. And trust me, I know she thinks of me as a brother, and that's exactly where I want to be. Do you reckon you can understand this?" Ron had the decency to look abashed.

"You're right. Forget about it. But what was that cringing all about? Did I say something?"

"No, no. I was just being an idiot. It's nothing," said Harry quickly, internally shrinking with mortification at the reminder of his earlier reaction.

"Come on we better get on with this then, we've already wasted fifteen minutes staring at bark."

...

Meanwhile Hermione and Draco were attempting to walk separately through the forest, metres apart from each other. They had unwisely chosen the rockiest, steepest region to find their creature.

"Why did you choose this area Granger; aren't you meant to be smart or something?" sneered Draco attempting to balance on a jagged rock.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who walked in this direction Malfoy!" replied Hermione, her arms already scratched from falling over twice.

"Excuse me? If I remember precisely- AHH!"

"Malfoy? Malfoy where are you?" said Hermione nervously. Silence, except the sound of gushing water by the lake where the rocks were, "Malfoy quit playing about you're not funny!" Hermione began to carefully hold the rocks and move towards where Malfoy was just standing. No sign of him.

"I'm down here. I'm fine." Malfoy called from below. Hermione had to stifle a scream of shock. Malfoy was hanging off a branch, which hung over the rocks, by his robe... which looked like it was about to tear into two. If he fell, he would get extremely hurt!

"Malfoy you need help! Where's my wand?" said Hermione, trying not to panic.

"I don't need help... I can just... NEED HELP, NEED HELP, ARRGHH!" Hermione looked down again; Malfoy's robe had very nearly split.

"I can't find my wand!" Hermione moaned looking around in despair.

"I've got it!" called Malfoy from above the water and rocks.

"What! How?"

"I... Well, I just nicked it and was waiting for you to realise..." Draco murmured.

"You bastard! Purloining my wand means now you're the one who's going to suffer!" Hermione shouted down. But obviously she couldn't just leave him there. Quivering with fear, Hermione took off her robe and began to climb her way down the rocks, her hands clenching as hard as she could.

"Listen I'm about three meters away from you to your left now, can you turn around and hand me my wand?" Draco turned to his left and reached into his pocket, and stretched to hand her wand over. Quickly Hermione produced a rope. She tied one side to a rock and threw the other to Draco. "Listen. Tie this around yourself. Tight." Draco nodded and did so immediately. Just in that moment, Draco's robe split into two, causing him to swing off.

"Whoa- that was close." Draco climbed across the rocks to where Hermione was standing. "Thanks," he said, undoing the rope. "What happened to your face?" A sharp rock had sliced Hermione's face when she was climbing down. He reached up to touch it but Hermione had moved away from him.

"It's fine," brushed off Hermione. "Oh my... What is that?" Behind Draco was a very small creature, small enough to fit in their hands. It seemed like a lizard; however it had a smooth body with... wings?

"I have no idea but we've only got ten minutes to get back. Let's just stun this and get out of here."

"I'll produce a ladder while you do that." Hermione began to create a ladder up to the top of the forest again. She turned around once she was done and saw Draco cradling the small creature.

"Come on Malfoy." Hermione started climbing up the ladder lying down the damp grass once she was away from the rocks. Draco soon came up too and sat down nearby her. Hermione glanced at him. "What's happened?" she asked questionably.

"What do you mean?" Draco said, lying down in the long grass, his arm propping his head up.

"You're behaving… differently. You haven't insulted me once today. And what's up with all your Slytherin friends? What's really going on Malfoy?" rambled Hermione. She just couldn't understand what would cause such an abrupt change in the boy.

"Well... As you were aiding in saving my life, and my life holds a lot of importance, I guess I can only be polite; it's called manners in pureblood terms Granger. Nothing is going on. What happened with Potter and Weasley?"

Hermione bristled slightly at the remark against her blood heritage. HerhH"Ron's making a big deal out of nothing. He's infuriating me at the moment! But they'll make up; they always do in the end."

"Shit we have to go; we've got like ten minutes to get out of here." Hermione and Draco began running through the forest back to Hagrid's hut.

"So what's the deal with you trying to talk to Harry?" asked Hermione, testing her luck as they slowed into a face walk.

"We're not children anymore. I don't see why Potter doesn't see that."

"Why would he see that? We have no reason to mingle with you. You've behaved like a pratt to all of us for our whole time to Hogwarts, and are the opposite of everything Harry believes in!"

"Yet you're speaking to me now," Draco smirked slightly.

"That's because I haven't any choice! I'm glad Harry didn't agree to making amends with you, you're a bastard like your father and always will be," said Hermione heatedly as Draco's smirk began to fade.

"My father is not a bastard! We've got to get over childish feuds and move on. Again, why can't Potter see that?" said Draco now, completely serious. Perhaps this could be a way he could truly understand why Potter would refuse to make amends, and this could aid him in his father's plan to befriend him.

"And that's because you attempted to make our lives a living hell for five years! You bullied him for reasons that were either not his fault or didn't exist! I don't blame him for not forgiving you!"

Hermione walked away from Draco towards Hagrid's cabin in a huff, and for the first time in his life, Draco felt inferior to a mudblood.

...

Chapter End

Quite a Draco-esque chapter we have here; I just feel I needed him up to date with the rest of our characters. The next chapter will contain a little more Draco, and perhaps an announcement on when Harry's meeting is going to take place. And who is Markel…?

I hope Ron wasn't too out of character here; I've mentioned his insecurities subtly across the previous chapters, but this was his final outburst here. His uncertainty with Hermione is important for later on in the story.

Please please please grab a moment to type a review the chapters, I really do enjoy reading them and they motivate me to write more detailed and longer chapters more regularly! To anyone who has reviewed in the past, please don't stop! To those who follow/favourite, please review!

Thank you to TheSamurai'sRose, Caraline Fisher (and her son hehe), Allie Danger, Talia-Elizabeth and a guest for reviewing the last chapter.

**Please review! Comliments and critique equally welcome.**

Have an excellent weekend.

Best wishes

Raiise


	9. Unexpected Support

Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Warning: Themes of self-harm ahead.

Chapter Nine: Unexpected Support

…

Dumbledore sat in his office, the usually cheery face looking worn; his face holding every single one of his years at once. It had been a long time since Dumbledore had felt this worse for wear, and there were many justifiable reasons for it.

The elderly Headmaster glanced expectantly at his lemon drops, as though they could be the answer to all his concerns, but not even the sticky sickly sweet could do much to shed light on his dampened mood at the moment. It had been a week since Harry Potter's abuse had been come out to his colleague, and Dumbledore sure as hell hoped it wouldn't be publicised any further; the ageing man however felt fairly confident that Severus Snape would stay under his thumb and not expose this to the public in any way.

But it had been much worse than he had expected. The abuse had been a lot worse.

Of course Dumbledore would never admit that to anyone, hence why he did not to Severus. Of course he knew of the abuse – the beatings, the hard child labour and poor nutrition but to the extent Dumbledore saw? No. Not to that extent.

But what made Dumbledore ashamed of himself the most wasn't the fact that he had kept the boy there more unknowingly than he cared to admit, but more the fact that he would have kept Harry there even if he did know. It was a callous resolution, but if there was one thing Albus Dumbledore was sure of, it was that he would always work towards the greater good, no matter what hard decisions would come his way.

He was the leader of the light, for goodness sake! Dumbledore thought to himself coldly, his fingers brushing through his long beard. Do good hard warriors come from pampered backgrounds? No? Name one! Each one of the past has come from a heartless, broken childhood that has lead them to be strong and unwavering in the prospect of war. As good a boy Harry is, how could Dumbledore have predicted he would have been the same if he had been an overly indulged boy-who-lived in a wizarding family?

But poor Harry needed to return there, it was simply the safest option for him and everyone. It would do no one anyone good if the reason the Chosen One had been killed alongside many Order members simply because his Uncle had been rough with him. What a tragedy.

No. Harry Potter was a strong boy, and he will understand the reasoning of having him return there. His lack of self-preservation and need to protect others will do everything for the Headmaster. All he had to do now is explain that to Harry and he would most certainly understand.

With that thought in mind, Dumbledore sat up in his chair with a little more cheer, and reached into his bowl filled with lemon drops, spelling a diary open to plan the next Order meeting.

…

Harry was sat in the middle of the library, pouring through a thick binding on Transfiguration for Defence for extra reading. It was an unusual book, but as interesting as it was, the Gryffindor couldn't seem to concentrate. He was beginning to get a little agitated now; it had been some time since Professor Snape had announced that he was going to inform higher authorities but neither Snape nor Pomfrey, or even Dumbledore had gotten back to him. Perhaps Snape had realised that the Headmaster had a point, and figured it was not worth the effort.

So nothing had come from it being revealed. Harry ought to have been pleased for surely this is what he had wanted all along? The abuse not to be figured out, he to return for one more summer and then be freed from the Dursley's clutches permanently. So why was he was incongruously disappointed?

It was that deep knowing feeling of emptiness that he allowed to loom over him him, just like it did every time he was reminded that there wasn't an adult figure in his life, prepared to defend him, support him and acknowledge him that told him that this was the reason why he felt let down. A parent or guardian who would take the weight load off his shoulders and tell him 'it was going to be okay'. Harry felt silly; he was sixteen, not six! He had managed this long, he can continue without.

But there was a time when Harry did have a parent figure, prepared to defend him, protect him and be there for him. Sirius. But what had Harry done? He had gone and gotten Sirius killed, simply because he was too naïve to understand the true threats ahead of him.

Sirius was dead and it was his entire fault. Harry deserved to be alone, because people who became closer to him simply got killed. It was a miracle Ron and Hermione had survived this stretch along his side.

Sirius. Sirius laughing, Sirius living. He had been an innocent, courageous, loyal friend all along, and what did he get in return? Twelve years in the worst prison known to wizard folk, one year living off rats and finally, when he was inches close from being announced not guilty, his best friend's son got him murdered. Remus hadn't been in contact with Harry since the end of last year. His parents must also hate him; Sirius must hate him.

"_THEN I DON'T WANT TO BE HUMAN!" _the words echoed at the back of his mind from Dumbledore's office at the end of last year. Being human meant pain was real; being human meant one must accept and endure the hurt and discomfort it brings.

Mum, dad, Cedric and Sirius. How many more deaths to his name were there to come?

A hot anger surged through Harry, causing his head to throb. He wanted to scream, cry and exhale this painful fury that had a strong hold through him. This was all his fault!

He would never see Sirius again, he could never talk to him again, never receive a letter from him again. And it was his, and only his fault.

An empty hollow feeling heaved its way to the bottom of his heart, replacing the anger, and all he felt was numbness. He wouldn't feel anything if he could just forget. Just for a few moments, forget.

The large book Harry had been holding fell out of his hands and it was only then he noticed they were sweaty and shaking. He needed out and he needed out now.

With this resolution, Harry pacified dramatically. Upon closing the book and filing his papers, Harry calmly stood up, grabbed a pencil and walked out the library, heading towards the closest boys bathroom.

Unknown to him, Draco Malfoy followed Harry in pursuit, viewing the sudden change of emotion with much curiosity.

The first bathroom Harry found was empty, and he wasn't surprised; it was a Saturday afternoon and most students, including his two best friends were either in their Common Room or outside, enjoying the last few weekends of autumn before the cold winter weather overcame the warm sunlight. Plus, boys didn't tend to linger in toilets unlike girls.

He quickly transfigured the pencil into a razor, and a spark of adrenaline built up a pressure within, so fearsome and willing that he didn't even notice someone enter and close the door quietly, ducking into one of the cubicles.

Harry then glanced at the entrance missing the figure by moments, and decided to lock the room with little trepidation. He examined his apparatus with anguish apparent on his face.

The roaring in his ears told him that he was ready, and the violence and the ferocity of his beating heart begged for him to done with it. The urge for release, to be free from the drowning bars that trapped Harry in his own skin. The liberation would set him on fire, and that desire and determination pulled him forward. That was the problem with pain; so very demanding and rarely withstanding.

He looked desperately at the bathroom door for the second time despite knowing it was locked, lifted his left sleeve, and went to-

"You probably shouldn't be doing that."

Harry spun round abruptly, whipping his wand out so viciously that a few blue sparks flew out the end. To his horror, Malfoy was standing in front of him, leant against one of the cubical doors, white faced as though trying to cover his shock. Malfoy had swiftly conjured a shield barrier, at the sight of Harry's aggressive magic, but then put his wand back in his robe.

"What are you doing here?" spat Harry, razor still in hand, and wand in the other. Malfoy lifted both hands to show he was unarmed and had no intention of harming.

"Truth be told, I saw you leave the library with that look on your face, and I was wondering where you were going. I followed you here and at first I supposed you were just using the facility but well - I thought I'd make my presence know before you did anything stupid."

"This isn't stupid, you know nothing Malfoy," replied Harry angrily, his hollow emotions dissipating. He had been so close!

"I know more than you think. Will you stop pointing your wand at me please? It's highly offensive when I clearly have no intention of using mine." Harry complied by lowering his wand slightly.

"Good. Now can I trust you to allow me to put down my protego?" said Malfoy calmly. Harry wordlessly nodded, oddly placated by Malfoy's composure, but did not put away his wand into his robe. "Okay; so what's this about? Why is our finest boy-who-lived attempting to kill himself? Quite a feeble attempt too, might I add."

Harry bristled slightly, "I wasn't trying to kill myself ferret! Do you really think this would do the job?" He waved the sharp razor in the air before hastily hiding it away.

"Well good; I don't think You-Know-Who would be too please if he found out he didn't get to finish off the job himself," Malfoy smirked slightly, but his ashen face didn't cover his bemusement of the situation.

"Suicide is just too selfish; whether you are the boy-who-lived, a pampered Slytherin prince such as yourself, or any old witch, wizard or muggle. It's not the answer to any problems, it's an easy way out and it's just proving to the world you're weak. Suicide is just plain wrong," said Harry flatly.

"But self-harm is acceptable?" Malfoy questioned.

"Like I said before; you don't know anything! And this isn't even self-harm" replied Harry defiantly, wondering how he is even having this conversation with Malfoy and hadn't hexed him into oblivion by now.

"Yes it is. It's self-harm, and it's just as wrong Potter. For whatever nonsensical or justifiable reasons you think you may have, self-harm is utterly pointless," said Draco quickly before making a final decision to come out, "Trust me, I know; and that's why you should believe me when I tell you I'm not going to spread this."

Harry started. "You know? And y-you stopped?"

"Under two years ago. When He returned; pressure was on, and it was a way to get away from it all. It's something I could do, not something I was told to do or learn. I got out of it very quickly; within one summer in fact. I had the right person find out, and that somebody helped me stop. Plus, I realised I was just far too good looking to have scars on my skin. Surely you feel the same way?"

"I understand what you're saying; but that's what concealment charms are for!" exclaimed Harry. Harry most certainly recalled what Snape had said about the spell last week but surely one more charm wouldn't do that much damage? He'd been completely fine in class up until now!

"Idiotic Gryffindor. Don't you realise how bad glamours can be for your magic? And you have a curse scar as well! Two minutes of release isn't worth risking squib life or a scar that anyone could possibly see! Wizards, witches, squibs and even filthy muggles alike are likely to judge you for those scars before even getting to know you; and you already have a lot of judgement to your name anyway. It's not fair and it's wrong but I don't even know how to tell you how inane that action is."

Harry didn't reply, but there was a dawn of understanding about his features. Heartened by this, Malfoy concluded his conversation with Harry.

"Listen; I don't know your reasoning for what you were about to do, and quite frankly it's not my business either. Just remember, the hardest part of recovery is when you're not sure you want to recover. It's the reason for relapse; it's so very easy to listen to people to tell you to stop, but you within yourself have to be convinced you want to stop." And with that Malfoy unlocked and walked out of the boys toilets, giving Harry much food for thought.

…

Draco lay in his four poster bed in the Slytherin dormitories. It had been hours since his conversation with Potter, and he was admittedly unsettled by it. Never in his life had he given such advice or support to another, and it made him shudder. He had been…nice.

But seeing Potter sitting there, with that look in his eye in the Library earlier – it had brought feelings he had once had back home very quickly; a flashback he hadn't expected to experience ever again. Those few weeks of self-inflicted pain had been a closed chapter in his life that he had never intended to open again. But why had Draco been so considerate? No one – no one apart from Sev and Madame Pomfrey knew about those few weeks in the summer, yet Draco had willingly announced it to his supposedly school arch-nemesis.

Draco tried to convince himself it was because of his father; his father would be so disappointed if had brought back a broken teenage boy, rather than a rival of the Dark Lord, and that Draco being almost kind to Potter was all part of the ruse to befriend him. But as much as he tried, he couldn't. The Slytherin knew the words that had come out of his mind were all true and all sincere. It had literally been out of the goodness of his heart…. And Draco hadn't even realised he had any goodness in his heart.

…

Chapter End

If anyone ever wants to chat to me further about the themes I've brought up in this chapter, suicide, self-harm, relapse, feel free to PM me. I'm more than willing to chat to anyone who wants/needs to talk.

Thanks to Murgy31, a Guest, animefreak728, oldsie, Babs707PertemisDrarry and Discovery's Daughter for reviewing!

Please do review the chapters, letting me know what you think or if there's anything in particular you wish to see! I really do love seeing how many reviews I get in a chapter!

So earlier this week I visited Platform 9 and ¾ at Kings Cross Station on my way home and snapped a picture pretending to run into the wall! It was so much fun and I'm definitely going to head back to the Harry Potter Shop round the corner in the near future!

Review review review!

Best wishes

Raiise


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